


Kept Apart by Fate

by Harribarry101



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Fantasy, Fate, Love, Most likely not Canon Compliant as of AoC, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:41:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 52,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27505504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harribarry101/pseuds/Harribarry101
Summary: A few months after the official inauguration of the champions, Princess Zelda of Hyrule summons the champions to a meeting at Wetland Stable. Even with little idea what the purpose may be, Princess Mipha is nonetheless cautiously excited; and simultaneously nervous. It will be, after all, the first time she will have seen Link in months.As all the champions arrive, it becomes clear to Mipha that something is still not right, and her cautious hopes are shattered. Link is still the stoic and emotionless knight he was when she saw him last, and not the bright, caring, and energetic young man she once knew. Whom she had once fallen for.But, despite the unencouraging start, Mipha is determined to try and exhort Link out of his withdrawn state. Initially, her hopes are not high, but, over the course of their adventure across Gerudo Desert to study the divine beast Vah Naboris, it becomes clear that this trip may yield more results than she had given it credit for.
Relationships: Link/Mipha (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 31
Kudos: 73





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> Though few of you will care, this is, in fact, my first published work. I have always had a deep affection for literature, but have never really pursued writing as a hobby beyond short, 5000-odd word stories. That all changed when I played Breath of the Wild, and was immediately drawn to the relationship between Link and Mipha. It felt so underdeveloped; and I had never been this unnaturally attached to a pair of fictional characters before. I just had to do something about it.
> 
> Before we start, I would like to make a quick disclaimer. Age of Calamity was announced midway through production of this fanfiction. This set a deadline for me - I now had to have all ten chapters out by November the 20th - and also means I must point out that AoC will likely retcon my entire story. Though I’m sure the same will happen to half the BotW fanfictions on this entire website, I do have to make it clear that my work, in all likelihood, is not going to remain canon-compliant for very long.
> 
> By the way, I would rate this ESRB T for Graphic Depictions of Violence and Mild Sexual References. None of you would mind if I didn’t do this, but I feel like it’s my duty to do so anyway, even if AO3 already has warnings such as these. This is simply more standardised (and shows you exactly what my rating's there for).
> 
> With that out of the way, I hope you enjoy the story. See you on the other side.

As the golden sun set over the plains of Hyrule Field, and the last light of day was slowly squeezed into yet another period of encroaching darkness by the jagged line of the horizon, the approaching figures of Zelda – the Princess and heir to the throne of the Kingdom of Hyrule – and her bodyguard, Link, drew steadily nearer. They were making their way towards the Wetland Stable from the Rebonae bridge that provided travel between the Lanayru Wetlands and the field over the raging waters of the River Hylia. Mipha, the Princes of Zora’s Domain and the representative of the Zora race in the troop of pilots that waited just behind her, patiently watched as the party of two meandered towards her and her fellow champion. Her instinct, when she saw Link’s silhouette appear over the horizon line, was to run down to meet him - but such a thing would not stand with the company she was in, and she had to content herself with waiting for the (at least in her eyes) painfully slow progress of the pair. Waiting for her childhood friend to arrive.

 _But that was the problem_. Link might have, at one point, simply been a good and trusted friend to her, but over time Mipha’s feelings for Link had evolved into something that could not reasonably be defined as a ‘close friendship’. Just half a decade ago, she would have been pleased, but emotionally controlled, to see him. Now, everything had changed, and, with thoughts of him filling every moment of her waking hours, the news of Link’s appearance at this assembly was enough to send her into a fit of wild excitement. A hard as it may be, she must not let that excitement show to those around her. Instead, she waited patiently, as the princess and her escort came closer and closer, and contented herself with thoughts on what she would say to Link when could see him alone. She hadn’t seen him since the inauguration ceremony, and while that had been an exceptionally happy reunion for multitude of reasons, it had been a good few months since that event, and already her body and mind were thirsting for more time with Link.

She hadn’t been brought up as a princess for nothing, however, and so her emotions were carefully controlled to the outside world. Even though Urbosa - whom Mipha suspected had long since known of her true feelings towards Link - kept eyeing her, Mipha was confident that not a shred of her true feelings showed.

Mipha turned her attention from her own private musings back to the progress of the man she loved and the princess who accompanied him. She noted that Link lagged several paces behind his princess, and wondered why that was. Was it respect, or palace law that kept him behind her? Was he simply just slower than the princess? Or was there something else going on? Mipha wondered what could have kept him behind, but, as he had only recently been appointed as Zelda’s knight, she had little idea of the relationship between them. If she was being honest, she didn’t enjoy thinking of his assignment, and how much time he would be spending with that princess. It certainly wasn’t Zelda’s fault, but still…

She often wondered what it would be like if Link had been assigned to her instead. Over time, these idle thoughts had grown into fantasies, and those fantasies had contributed to the extraordinary amount of time that she spend thinking of Link. He truly had doomed her.

As they drew ever nearer, Urbosa detached herself from the rest of the group, and made her way down the road to intercept the company. As if he had been waiting for just that signal, Daruk followed suit. As Urbosa approached Zelda, the princess looked up, and said something unidentifiable in a joyful voice. Urbosa responded with a remark of her own, but at this distance Mipha could only guess at the nature of the interaction. Urbosa pulled into a hug, and the princess embraced her warmly. Mipha took interest in the fact that the Hyrulean Princess, who in the time Mipha had known her had come across as very sombre and borderline depressed, showed feelings of excitement towards seeing the Gerudo Chief. It made her happy to see her so enthusiastic – though she may have reservations about the time she would be spending with Link, she could hardly blame that on her. She did not catch much of their exchange, however, as she was too busy focusing on the upcoming one between Link and Daruk. This was the moment. This was the time to see if anything had changed; if her hopes had, in fact, been worth anything.

Daruk came up to Link and pounded him on the back good-naturedly. This time, Mipha had no trouble hearing his words - not necessarily because the conversation was held any closer, but because Daruk’s default dynamic was a constant _forte_.

“There’s my little brother!” Daruk roared, as his giant hand nearly knocked Link clean off his feet. “How’re you doin’, little fella?”

Mipha had no way of hearing what Link - who was, like most, a lot quieter that Daruk while conversing - would say in reply at this distance, but, much to her dismay, this proved to not be a problem. There was no verbal response from Link, just a small, short nod of his head. Mipha’s hopes fell crashing through the floor. Surely, he had gotten over it. Surely, he wasn’t the same as last time. Surely…

As Link drew close enough for the remaining shreds of sunlight to illuminate his face, however, Mipha’s hopes were squashed out with a vengeance. His face was the same as the last time she had saw him; if anything, it had gotten worse. He revealed no emotion; no expression crossed his face, and his eyes were once again blank, stoic locked gateways, instead of the pathway into his life, energy, kindness and love that they once were. Link, who had once been one of the most lively and caring people Mipha had known, had been degrading into this withdrawn state for the past few years now, and every time Mipha saw him, she hoped that whatever had been troubling him had passed. Consequently, every time she saw him, she suffered another crippling blow.

At this point, she could hear the conversation between Urbosa and Zelda, who was detailing what sounded like technical specifications surrounding some ancient artefact. Mipha had quickly learned that, whenever Zelda began rhapsodising about the topic of her scholary studies into the ancient Sheikah technology that, thanks to her father’s excavations, now lay scattered across the continent of Hyrule, it was best just to tune most of it out, and to nod and smile every now and again to give the impression that you were listening. Either Urbosa hadn’t picked up on this useful tidbit of advice, or she chose to ignore it just to humour the Hyrulean princess. Mipha attempted to focus on the interaction (or lack thereof) between Link and his Goron brother, but there wasn’t much to pay attention to. Daruk was grinning widely at the champions reunification, and at the prospect of adventure, while Link, as before, was silent and stiff and stoic. She held on hope for some sign of life for as long as possible, but, as the company of four drew ever closer, Mipha was forced to concede her attention to the foreign princess, as it would surely be her who would address Mipha first.

“...and, because of that, I was forced to deliver the slate to Purah to be recalibrated, which put me another two days behind schedule.” Zelda was saying to Urbosa as they drew near. “I enjoy Purah’s company, of course, but such trips _are_ rather dramatically eating into my time. I do wish there was some way in which I could get there faster next time.”

Urbosa studied Zelda critically. “Have you considered taking a horse to speed up the journey? I’ve heard that those animals of yours move at a… well, a rather drastic pace when compared to walking.”

Zelda pouted slightly, screwing up her face and shaking her head. “Yes, but I cannot ride horses, remember? I’ve been busy doing… doing research, and haven’t the time to learn. Besides, I don’t know anyone who could teach me to ride at the moment. All the stablehands are busy teaching our cadets how to ride, and I dare not disturb them; not when their duty is so important to the kingdom. The knights and other infantrymen are, of course, even more occupied than they. Unfortunately, there’s not anyone I could go to who could help me at this moment.”

“As a knight, Link knows how to ride, does he not?” queried Urbosa. “Perhaps, if you ask him, he could teach you. I’m sure he’d be happy to help.”

Zelda suddenly went silent, and fidgeted with her hands as she formulated a response. Mipha noticed that there was a tightness to her eyes that was not present before Urbosa’s comment, and again wondered at the status of her and Link’s relationship. Was it so bad that she did not even wish to speak of it?

“My… I would rather not ask Link to teach me to ride at the moment,” Zelda murmured, in a much more subdued and downcast voice than she used moments earlier.

Urbosa raised her eyebrow in surprise at this reaction. “Why ever not? He’s certainly not busy, and, even if he was, his job _is_ to provide for you, after all.”

Zelda looked uncomfortable. “Yes, but… I’d… I’d just rather not ask him.”

Urbosa glanced at her quizzically, but declined comment. The company, with Urbosa and Zelda at the front, reached Mipha’s position as the last one waiting. Zelda’s head snapped up suddenly, as if just noticing its proximity to their destination. Her face burst into a wide smile at the sight of Mipha, patiently waiting on the road ahead of them.

“Mipha!” Zelda exclaimed. “How very good to see you!”

Mipha, smiling back at her, bowed slightly towards the foreign princess. “Your highness. The feeling is mutual.”

Zelda, abruptly realising her mistake with her form of address - or, rather, lack of such - that she had bestowed upon a princess of a foreign sovereign nation, quickly hurried to rectify her mistake. “Ah… yes, sorry, your highness, I didn’t mean to-” she stammered, looking slightly nervous at her slip and obviously fervently hoping that Mipha would decide not to make an issue of it. Her face seemed to fall far too easily into the one of someone who was expecting a reprimand.

Thankfully, Mipha, who understood that the slip was, in fact, simply a mistake on the princess’s behalf, waved her apology aside, her smile widening slightly as she did so. “Please do not concern yourself with it, Princess. We are a company of champions, and, if we are to work together, we must treat one another as equals in these trying times.”

Zelda relaxed slightly, and straightened up erect again.

“Well then, you’ll hardly need to address me as ‘princess’, then!” she beamed. “I think just my first name will suffice, as long as we’re all not worried about proper decorum. In all honesty, I always rather found such formality bothersome and an unnecessarily exaggeration.”

Mipha smiled yet again at her reply. “Don’t worry, Zelda,” she said. “I am certainly not worried about proper decorum. I withhold the opinion that one can only be addressed as ‘your royal highness’ so many times.”

Zelda laughed; a clear, bright laugh that sounded so incredibly natural. It really was good to see her usually-solemn face in such joy. Hylia knew she didn’t get enough of that. “Well, then, as long as we’re all on the same page.”

Mipha nodded, and then turned her attention to what was, at least in her eyes, the more pressing task ahead of her. Beside Zelda, and a few paces back, Link stood, mutely watching the proceedings, and Mipha knew that, as an old friend of his, she would be expected to greet him. Though she was rather nervous on the whole subject of… well, what she was actually to _say_ to him, she was nevertheless overjoyed at the prospect of spending some time with him, and as such her voice was gentle and soft as she looked lovingly upon Link, her hopes flaring into light once again.

“Hello, Link,” she said softly. “It’s been a long time.”

Most unfortunately for Mipha’s foolishly rekindled hopes, Link presented to her equal reply as he had to Daruk; a short, emotionless nod. While, in his current state, it was the reply that Mipha supposed she had been expecting, it was still rather crushing to attempt to reach out to him and for him to simply nod in response, without betraying the slightest emotion in doing so. Mipha also noticed that, instead of looking at her as he made his mute reply, he was staring at the ground, as if afraid to meet her eyes; or even look at her. _Why was that?_ Why was he so insistent of not making eye contact? What was he afraid of? There was a silence, as the short-lived conversation between the recently-united champions had quickly died without anything for them to converse about. Mipha transpired that Zelda had greeted Daruk, though, lost in her own world with Link, she had no recollection of their interaction.

Eventually, Zelda broke the silence.

“Well, then,” she spoke up briskly, taking charge; as was her duty. “Should we be moving up to our accommodation for the night? I… presume you have a fire going?”

Daruk grunted assent. In the brief time Mipha had known him, he appeared to do such a thing with great frequency. Link’s description of him – back when he still spoke openly to her – supported that observation. “You better bet we do, tiny princess! We got that thing cookin’ while we were waitin’ for you to arrive! We’ve even got some prime rock roast ready! I can almost smell it from here!” He sniffed the air expectantly, drawing in the scents around him with what seemed almost like reverence, though personally Mipha couldn’t for the life of her pick out the smell of roast rock from the various other smells arrayed around her; and wouldn’t know what such a thing would smell of even if she could.

Urbosa exhaled in exasperation, a gesture which she seemed to use a lot. Mipha had noticed that all the champions had such little habits. It made her wonder vaguely what hers were. “Daruk, while I don’t doubt the… extraordinary taste of your roasted rocks, may I suggest that the baked cucco could possibly be more to the liking of our princess?”

Daruk frowned, reaching up one massive hand to scratch his beard, as if he hadn’t considered that a possibility. “I mean… she could have the cucco if she wanted. But why would she, when there’s a perfectly good rock roast just beside it?”  
  
“I definitely want the cucco,” Zelda put in hurriedly. “I- No offence, Daruk. I just… I just don’t feel like rock roast tonight. My… my apologies.” She sounded relieved that Urbosa had suggested it first.

Daruk sighed. “Well, I guess it’s just for me then. Shame. An’ I went to all that effort as well!”

The company began moving in the direction of the Wetland stable, where, true to Daruk’s word, a blazing fire had been set up. Sitting beside the fire, sharpening the tips of some of his arrows, sat the final member of the champions - Revali, the Rito Champion. Revali was not, admittedly, Mipha’s favourite out of her fellow pilots. He displayed a constant attitude of racism and scorn, and an inherent sense of snobbish superiority that he made clear on a daily basis. He also had a highly condescending attitude towards all those around him, and seemed eager to lash out and insult; especially towards Link. Mipha hadn’t yet figured out where his obvious animosity for the Hylian Knight came from, though his attitude always made Mipha reflexively defensive on Link’s behalf - which was ridiculous, considering that he never appeared to take offence. Even though Link hadn’t given anyone much excuse to verbally attack him, Revali always seemed to do so anyway. All in all, he was a highly unpleasant character, and not one Mipha had enjoyed spending the past few hours with.

The Rito glanced up as his fellow champions approached, and snorted his signature snort of disdain, as if their arrival was somehow a huge inconvenience to him. Sighing in an annoyed manner, he put away his sharpening tool and his bundle of arrows, and, brushing the metallic shavings off his feathery coat and into the fire, he stood up and turned to face the approaching party, crossing him arms and eying them sceptically.

“So,” he said. Though he assessed the entire group (his gaze sharped as it slid across Link), his address was directed only at Zelda. “You’ve finally arrived. You know, I was beginning to think you’d led us all here on a wild goose chase, and were never going to arrive. Well, it appears you’ve proved me wrong… for once. My congratulations.”

Another reason that she had recommended not observing proper respect amongst the champions, Mipha reflected, was that Revali would be instantly kicked out of the group. His casual attitude of disdain towards everyone outside himself boarded on insubordination, and it was only because the champions needed the Rito people’s trust that they kept him around as the representative of his people. Mipha was sure that her fellow champions disliked Revali in much the same way as she did - indeed, he had been beaten back in several verbal debates by Urbosa in just the few months she had known him - but, like her, they tried not to let it show. Emphasis on _tried_ \- sometimes, he went too far and had to be put back into his place.

“I am glad that I have exceeded your expectations, Revali,” Zelda replied, using the stiff voice she reserved for use trying to hold a conversation with the highly resistant Rito champion. “Do you have any food for us? It has been quite a long trip, as you may know.”

Revali grunted, apparently finding no point to take offence against in Zelda’s statement, and reached down to pick up a tray full of cucco kebabs. The baked pieces of cucco breast, interspaced with the greens and yellows of various vegetables, were intertwined via a thin piece of metal, all with a thin, black coating due to their exposure to the high temperature and burning fire that was necessary to cook the meat. Mipha was suddenly aware of how long it had been since lunch, and her stomach rumbled in anticipation of the meal to come.

“There,” Revali said pompously as he handed the tray to Mipha, seated on a log next to the campfire. Mipha selected a kebab, and, wincing as the still-warm metal flared sharply against her delicate scales, passed the tray on to Urbosa on her right. “This is my own cooking, in a mastery of the traditional Rito art that I am renowned for amongst my people.”

Mipha wasn’t sure how one could have a mastery in the art of cooking kebabs around a campfire. In her experience, they didn’t require much of it. It was a sentiment that Urbosa seemed to share in; she raised her eyebrows and smiled slightly as she took a kebab for herself and passed the tray onto Link, whom was on her right. Most unfortunately, Revali seemed to notice an opportunity this time, and visibly bristled at the supposed insult, drawing himself up in his seat as he did so.

“Are you doubting my culinary abilities, Lady Urbosa?” he challenged, turning his head slightly to look her directly in the eye. “It’s much better that anything _you_ could produce, I daresay.”

Urbosa shook her head, swallowing her piece of kebab as she did so. Next to her, Link mutely passed the tray along to Zelda, who took it from him without acknowledgment. Mipha noticed a slightly tightening of the lips as she did so, and a refusal to look at him; though it did seem different to the way Link was avoiding Mipha. She couldn’t quite put her finger on how that was, however.

“Not at all, Master Revali,” Urbosa assured him, before, almost as an afterthought, adding, “I just hope that everyone here is prepared _and_ willing to suffer the effects of food poisoning first-hand.”

Revali scowled at her remark, and turned away in disgust. Zelda, meanwhile, attempted to smother a giggle that had escaped her at Urbosa’s comment as she took a kebab of her own, and Mipha lifted her hand to daintily hide the tiny smile that had crept onto her face in between her mouthfuls. While Urbosa’s comment had, of course, been an exaggeration, she did have to admit that it certainly wasn’t the greatest meal she had ever had.

“Well!” Daruk bellowed, picking up what looked like a large rock from behind him and looking over it with relish, “I haven’t gotta worry about any of this food poisoning business, as I cooked my own meal!” He stuffed the rock into his mouth and took a large bite out of it, chewing on the splintered shards of rock with an expression of bliss on his face. A look of confusion momentalirly crossed his face inbetween mouthfuls.

“Can Gorons even get food poisoning?” he wondered when he next took air, before shrugging and stuffing another bite of rock into his gullet. The speed at which he ate, Mipha realised suddenly with a pang of sorrow, greatly reminded her of Link, who was a great glutton as well. Or, she amended sadly, glancing over at Link, who had barely touched his own dinner, he had once been. It was yet another example of how different he had become; so far from who Link should be.

Revali growled under Daruk’s attack, obviously ignorantly done though it was, and took at kebab for himself, glaring at each of the champions in turn with undeserved venom in his eye. Revali had a habit of conceding arguments with bad grace and holding grudges, Mipha had noticed. With Urbosa around, he seemed to lose debates with alarming frequency, and yet he began subsequent ones with an even greater zeal. She wasn’t sure what he was trying to prove through it; but she did know that it certainly didn’t make him easy to get along with.

The champions finished off the provided selection of kebabs without any more mishap. It hadn’t been the greatest of all dinners, but, then again, she couldn’t be sure whether this opinion of hers was because the cucco was actually cooked incorrectly, or because her lacklustre view towards Revali and his abilities were infringing into her culinary senses. When all the champions had finished their dinner, there was a short silence as the champions sat contentedly around the fire, their stomachs full with the meal they had just consumed and their thoughts tired and sluggish from the long day before it. After a while, Mipha found herself staring at Link once again. He didn’t look back; simply staring into the fire, his eyes vacant and his stance expressionless. His forehead was creased in thought. Mipha had no idea what he could be thinking about. Could he be worrying about the trip? Considering his plan for the next few days?

_Thinking of her?_

Mipha was wrenched from her musings when, in her peripheral vision, she saw Zelda stand up. Reluctantly, she turned her mind from Link and towards Zelda, who no doubt had something of the utmost importance to tell the company; probably something far more important to their duty than Link. As much as she would rather think about him in that moment.

“Champions,” Zelda began, gathering the attention of all those who were still engrossed in their own thoughts. Mipha noticed that Zelda’s hands were clasped together, possibly indicating that she was nervous. She had noticed that the princess was far from a natural orator, and didn’t always feel comfortable being in charge – being relied upon – even though it was her duty. “I thank you all for coming to this meeting, even at the short notice that I gave for it. While I apologise for the hasty nature of this occasion, I believe it is necessary if we are to beat Calamity Ganon in time… which is, of course, of the essence.”

 _She is right about that_ , Mipha thought to herself. They had little information about the what and when relating to this upcoming attack, and their only ally was time - something which they had an unknown but rapidly depleting supply of. Mipha was nervous about the information - or rather, lack thereof - the Champions seemed to withhold; in her eyes, they just didn’t seem to know much about what they were up against. She welcomed any insight that Zelda had to help them in their fight, and so now gave her full attention to what the princess had to say, banishing Link from her mind. At least for the moment.

“After doing some research into the workings of Vah Naboris - and, by extension, the rest of the divine beasts - Urbosa has come across a useful piece of information that I believe will be the key to controlling our... our rather stubborn beasts.”

A low murmur passed around the group at these words. Despite being christened ‘pilots’, the four representatives chose to control the so-called ‘divine beasts’ had made little progress in doing just that. While most, with the exception of Daruk, could at least get their beasts to move at will, it was a brute-force, highly ineffective and draining way to do so. Every time Mipha instructed Ruta even in the simplest of tasks, a wave of fatigue passed over her, causing her vision to blur and her head to swim under the weight of the sudden exertion. If the outcome of the invasion depended on the intervention of the beasts, she had to admit that wasn’t feeling overly confident in the ability of the defending forces.

Zelda smiled slightly through her nerves as she saw her words having the desired effect, and gestured to Urbosa sitting on the log next to Mipha, who subsequently stood up. “Urbosa, if you could further explain?” she requested of the Gerudo, sitting down and turning to witness the tall woman's speech.

Urbosa glanced around the circle at each of the champions in turn, making sure that she had their full attention. She gave the impression of a far more natural orator than the princess. “I believe we all know of the problems we are currently facing with the beasts, so I won’t bore you all by going over them again. Suffice to say, our current methods of control are proving inefficient, and cannot reasonably be the methods the ancient Sheikah intended. After some experimentation with Vah Naboris, I believe I have encountered said intended method, and so contacted our Hyrulean Princess here and the Sheikah engineers Purah and Robbie,” She nodded at Zelda, who gave a tight smile. “All three agreed with me, and so a meeting between champions was arranged - a meeting we all sit on now.”

Urbosa eyed Revali to make sure he was still listening, before continuing. “We are therefore going to make the journey across Gerudo Desert to inspect Vah Naboris for ourselves, and determine if it could be the key to controlling our beasts.”

There was a slightly louder murmur from the company this time; none of the other pilots had been expecting such a long adventure. Revali glared up at Urbosa sharply, his feathers standing on end, and his eyebrows lowered thunderously at this unforeseen change of plan.

“Pardon me for my rudeness, Lady Urbosa,” he said, in an overly polite tone that deceived nobody; least of all Urbosa, “but are you legitimately suggesting we make the journey across the entire desert just so we can study that oversized camel of yours?”

“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting, _Master_ Revali,” Urbosa replied tartly, placing emphasis on the title to make it obvious that she, in turn, meant equal insult. “I’m glad you’ve begun to listen to me. Well, there’s a first time for everything, I suppose .”

Revali looked simply incredulous - though whether it was mock or real, Mipha couldn’t tell. He leaned forward in an exaggerated manner in order to make his next point.

“And is there any reason that this revelation of yours could not be discussed here, without this… superfluous adventure to accompany it?” he demanded brashly. Urbosa raised an eyebrow at his overasserting voice, but kept silent, simply gesturing towards Zelda to explain. Zelda, looking rather nervous at suddenly being in Revali’s line of fire but recognising that she was most suited to explain, stood again and faced Revali hesitantly.

“Of course, there are reasons, Revali,” Zelda told him. Her voice was far more formal, respectful and controlled than the one she addressed. “For one, I believe this revelation is far better off demonstrated, not simply discussed, and to do that we will have to be at the site. It is entirely possible that you will disbelieve what I have to say without proof. Number two; I would like to carry out some experimentation of my own while we’re there, and, if I’m going, and Urbosa is going to be there, it makes sense that the rest of the champions should be present.”

She paused, as if to catch her breath or possibly to arrange her thoughts, and then continued. “And third; this trip will not take us long, only a few days, and we need all the information we can get. If we miss anything because I simply told you, or anything comes up in experimentation that contradicts my previous statement, I shall have to contact you all to rectify my mistake, which will take time. It is much simpler for us to all go now.”

Revali scoffed at her words. “And you believe that whatever you have to say is this important?”

Zelda visibly cringed backwards at the undisguised insult, flinching briefly as if Revali had physically lashed out at her. Mipha sympathised with her; it had been a rather harsh reply. Her dislike of Revali grew further. She didn’t wish to classify her feelings towards him as hate - she was not one to hate - but she certainly didn’t offer him her kindliest gaze, either.

“Yes,” Zelda said eventually, releasing a pent-up breath in the statement. “We do not have enough information as is, and we need to take anything we can get if we are to have a hope at stopping Calamity Ganon,” She looked Revali directly in the eye, her resolve visibly hardening as she did so. “And no amount of inconvenience on our behalf is worth the consequences of failure.” Her voice trembled slightly as she said the last four words. She swallowed, but held her gaze.

Revali looked rather put off, but declined to comment any further, perhaps realising the instability of his position. If he had, Mipha knew, he certainly wasn’t going to apologise for his brash and disrespectful attitude towards the princess.

“I agree with Zelda,” Mipha spoke up quietly, feeling slightly embarrassed as every eye turned to her. Like her fellow princess, she was none too comfortable as a public speaker; despite being bought up as one. “We need information, and if Lady Urbosa believes that she has that information, then we must go to receive it. I have been-” Mipha cut off, and hesitated slightly before continuing, “I have been rather concerned with our lack of progress, and welcome anything that may prove efficient in controlling the divine beasts.”

Zelda nodded and smiled thankfully at Mipha, though all the Zora felt was a slightly stirring of deep-seated fear in her stomach. Yes, she _was_ worried about their lack of knowledge though it wasn’t on her behalf. She was worried on Link’s. She would be perfectly safe, protected by Vah Ruta, while Link would be with the princess on the front lines, running straight into danger. If he fell in the field of battle, Mipha would not be there to heal him. And if he fell because Mipha was unable to operate her divine beast and thereby protect him, she would never forgive herself.

“Well, I gotta say, I don’t know a whole lot about this whole ‘calamity ganon’ thing,” Daruk interjected, his booming voice mercifully taking the attention away from Mipha, who had once again been ensnared and incapacitated by her own thoughts. “But if anythin’s gonna help me to protect my brothers, and this land of ours, then I’m in!”  
  
“Thank you, Daruk,” Zelda replied, with a slight, almost imperceptible grin at his overenthusiasm momentarily breaking her sombre demeanour. “So, there are no more issues with the plan?”  
  
She glanced around the circle to make sure she hadn’t missed anyone, before giving another wan smile. “Well, if that’s the case, I believe I should be leaving for bed, and encourage you all to do the same. We have a long walk ahead of us tomorrow. Goodnight, everyone.”

There was a mumbled chorus of ‘goodnight’, from the rest of the champions as Zelda turned away and began walking towards her room, which she would be sharing with Mipha. There was a short silence amongst the remaining members of the party, before Urbosa spoke up.

“We’d all do best to follow her lead,” she said, standing up and stretching hugely, the various pieces of armour that she always sported clanking against each other as she did so. With a slight tilt of her head, she amended, “Well, I’m certainly going to, at least.”

She left, and the rest of the champions followed suit. Mipha began to follow, but hesitated halfway through. She stole a glance at Link, who had remained standing on the edge of the ring of light emitted by the campfire while they were talking, hoping that he would remain where he was. If he did, and Mipha managed to remain behind as well, she might be able to corner him. While his concurrent state was a huge blow to her, she was already making plans to try converse with him. If she managed to get him on his own, surely, he would open up a bit more. Surely, she could help him with whatever problem he was facing. Surely, if she tried…Unfortunately for her hopes, it didn’t happen. Link’s head jerked up, and, realising that he was quickly going to be alone with Mipha, he turned and hastily began walking in the direction of the stable, still resolutely avoiding her eye. Mipha hastily got up and followed him to the entrance of the large, wooden building, but, being a much faster walker than she, he got to his room first. He quickly opened the door, slipped inside, and let it shut behind him without a backwards glance, leaving Mipha in the doorframe, staring with sinking optimism at where he had been. First, he had simply refused to acknowledge her, now he was activity avoiding her? _What is he afraid of?_

“Mipha?” She heard a voice behind her; a voice she tentatively identified as Urbosa. “Are you going to your room, or are you just going to stand there? I mean, I won’t judge you either way - it’s your choice - but....”

“Oh!” Mipha exclaimed, moving out of the way to let Urbosa past and blushing slightly at her mistake. “I, uhh… my apologies, Lady Urbosa. I-I didn’t mean to block your way.”

Urbosa laughed, her eyes alight with mischief. “Oh, don’t worry about it. Sometimes, we all need some time to stand around and… well, just think about things. Things that are very important to us - maybe even people that are very important to us, hmm?”

Still chuckling to herself, she entered her own room and shut the door behind her. Mipha watched as she disappeared into the lantern-lit room, her thoughts squirming uncomfortably in her head. She had earlier suspected that Urbosa knew something of what she felt for Link, and now she could be reasonably certain that her suspicions were founded. So she had that to think about as well. Daruk came up behind her, and, after giving her a ‘goodnight’ grunt and a smile which she distractedly returned, went into the room he and Link shared. He shut the door far less obtrusively than Urbosa had. Mipha stood there for another second more as the crash from Daruk’s door slam echoed through the stable, before slowly making her way towards the room she shared with Zelda.

 _Tomorrow_ , she promised herself as she opened the door and let herself in. _Tomorrow, I will speak with him; spend some time with him. Tomorrow, he will respond to me. Everything will be made clear, and I will help him with whatever problems he may be having. He cannot avoid me forever._

_Tomorrow._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying this as of so far. Please bring any spelling mistakes or gramatical errors to my attention.


	2. Conversation

Mipha woke slowly to the pleasant sound of birdsong. For several, long minutes she lay in bed, lying on her side, her hands tucked beneath her head, and her breath coming and going in soft, almost inaudible sighs. Her legs lay furled on top of each other, and her body was free of the ornamentation that usually covered it, having taken her jewellery and adornments off to sleep. All in all, her prone, lithe body presented a peaceful, calming and innocent sight in its semiconscious state.

When she finally did get out of bed, it took even longer to get her bearings. She was alone in her room – Zelda had obvious already woken before her – and so had plenty of time to think about yesterday; and, of course, her goals for today. Today she would do it. No matter how determined Link was to avoid her, today was to be the day in which she would confront him. She would confront him, and talk to him, and, in doing so, she would get him to open up to her. Of course, such hopes for the future hadn’t seen a very high success rate as of late, but Mipha was not going to give up on them. She had loved Link for years now. Many nights, he had been all she had thought about. She was not going to waste this opportunity simply because of a false start.

Still thinking deeply about how she was to face the upcoming day, she donned her jewellery absentmindedly. She nearly made it out the door before she realised that she had forgotten her blue champions sash, and hurried back to tighten it around her waist. Throwing the excess cloth over her shoulder, she gave her head a little shake to force herself out of the deep thought she had been engaged with and back into the realm of the living, before walking over to the door, and opening it, stepping out into the sunlit world beyond. Three of the five remaining champions were awake by the time Mipha arrived at the remains of last night's campfire. Around the pile of ash and charred logs sat Urbosa, Zelda and Daruk, the former two staring into the charbroiled wood as if in thought, while the latter simply looked bored by the lack of proceedings. Urbosa glanced up and shot Mipha a friendly smile as she approached. Mipha returned the smile half-heartedly. She still wasn’t sure what motivated Urbosa, and that made Mipha wary around her.

“Mipha! Finally up, I see,” Urbosa called out, patting a spot on the log next to her. “Come. Sit. You’re just in time for breakfast.”

Hesitantly, Mipha sat next to Urbosa, though kept a bit of distance between them. Perhaps Urbosa noticed this, as she raised a single eyebrow in Mipha’s direction, but she made no comment as she passed a metal plate of fried eyes and toast to her companions.

“Eat up,” Urbosa told her, handing her a grubby metal plate upon which was a piece of toast and a few fried eggs. “We’ve got a long walk ahead of us if we’re to get to the Riverside Stable by tonight.”

Daruk nodded in greeting, before bending down to pick up the poker they were using and began poking the remains of last night’s fire, amusing himself by attempting to dismember the black logs that still remained. Mipha watched him absently for a while, before placing an egg onto a piece of toast and biting into it. After last night’s lacklustre meal, she wasn’t expecting much from their Rito cook – and so was pleasantly surprised that he hadn’t managed to foul anything up, even in such a simple meal as this.

“Did Revali do this again?” Mipha asked Urbosa between mouthfuls. She ate with more zeal than she had last night, now that she had a meal in which every bite didn’t give her the feeling that something was slightly off.

Urbosa shook her head, a grin forming at her lips. “Actually, no, he didn’t. As a matter of fact, this breakfast was cooked by our resident knight, Link,” She flashed her fully-formed grin at Mipha. “Possibly explains why you like it so.”

Mipha felt her face beginning to redden, and hurriedly took a bite of toast to disguise it. Yes, Urbosa definitely knew, all right. Mipha wasn’t sure exactly how she would use that knowledge, but she definitely knew. She covered up her brief embarrassment by eating the rest of her toast without speaking, albeit in a slightly more subdued manner than before. After some time, Mipha finished her toast, and began to wonder what was keeping the rest of the group. Alongside herself, Daruk, Urbosa and Zelda were all awake, though there was still no sign of Revali, or, more importantly to her, Link. The rest of the company seemed to be asking themselves the same question; every now and then one of them would glance up at the stable, as if wondering where the unaccounted members of their party had gotten off to.

It was Daruk who mentioned this first. “Does anybody know where Link and Revali have gotten to?” he asked, glancing around as if they may have magically appeared in the three seconds since he last looked.

Urbosa shrugged. “From what I’ve gathered, our knight has gone off on an early-morning stroll. As for Revali, well, it’s possible that he’s done the same.”

“Regardless, we do need to get going,” Zelda said. Her throat musculature had clenched slightly at the mention of Link. “I suggest that we all go back and pack our belongings. We shall give our absent champions a few minutes more, before trusting that they will follow us.”

There was a general muttering of consensus from around the circle, and, one by one, the champions got up and trouped back to their rooms, Zelda in the lead. Mipha once again delayed for a while, just in case Link came out while everyone else was away, but she was eventually forced to concede that he wasn’t going to come soon enough. She got up, and meandered her way over to the door to her room.

Zelda was just coming out once as she got there. She looked tired and distracted, her head was low and her eyes were troubled. Her head snapped up as she realised Mipha’s presence and gave a tight smile, which Mipha returned gently, before she hurried off back towards the remains of last night’s campfire. Mipha watched her as she went, temporarily jostled out of reality again. Something was clearly troubling Zelda. The question was, _what?_ What could possibly be weighing so heavily on the mind of the princess of Hyrule? There had been moments when she had smiled and laughed during this trip, but usually she simply looked sombre and forlorn. And her expression; Mipha had earlier noted that it quickly fell into one that expected a reprimand at every mistake she had made. Why was that? Why is it that everyone is concealing their worries.

Mipha shook her head to dispel these thoughts. Troubled as she may be by Zelda’s depressed state, she had to pack – and, besides, her main priority was Link. Opening the door, she stepped into her room and began to pack up what few belongings she had taken on the trip.

Her Lightscale Trident, which she always had on her, she leant against the wall. She put some personal items into a small drawstring cloth bag; a letter from her father, a few Hylian Rupees and the photo of the champions together that she had requested taken at their last meeting. She took a few seconds to smile once again at the startled expression on everyone’s faces, her eyes lingering for a while on Link, before putting it away to join the rest. She walked over to the door, picked up the Trident in one hand and sling the small bag over one of her shoulders. Pausing to throw one last look around the room, she turned, opened the door and went out, closing it behind her. She began to make her way towards where the silhouettes of the other champions were waiting, before stumbling midstep as she realised that they were one more than earlier.

Link must had arrived while Mipha was packing. Despite the earliness of the hour in which he must have gotten up, he didn’t look in any way fatigued; simply as expressionless as before. Mipha felt her heart begin to pick up again as she looked at him, her body buzzing with sudden adrenaline, even though she couldn’t explain why. The appearance of Link was not a supernatural occurrence – she had seen him yesterday, after all. All the same, this was the man she loved, the one she trusted most, and the one she most cared about to the highest degree. This was the man that she thought about, dreamed about – fantasised about, even – hour after hour after endless hour.

And, more importantly to her immediate future, the man she had promised herself that she would speak to today, and attempt to get to open up.

She approached the champions amidst murmured greetings, sidling up next to Zelda and trying to get her thoughts away from Link. Plenty of time for her to try and corner him today; they had the whole days walk ahead of them. She had promised that she would converse today, and she was not going to back down on such a promise. Not when it meant so much to her – when _he_ meant so much to her.

Daruk spoke first. “Oh, Mipha, you got anything’ that you need me to carry?” He rattled a huge sack that he had slung over his shoulder, which looked to contain the belongings of the other champions.

Mipha nodded gratefully, and he set the bag down so that she could wedge the Trident into it. It was a bit long for the sack, but, with some wiggling, she managed to secure it in such a way that it wouldn’t fall out while the Goron was walking. She stood back, and Daruk began to swing the bag back over his shoulder before noticing the small bag Mipha still held.

“You need me to carry that as well?” he asked.

Mipha shook her head. “Thank you for the offer, Daruk, but I wish to keep this. It contains-” she hesitated briefly, glancing at Urbosa’s knowing expression before ploughing on, “-it contains some personal items, and I’d much rather keep a hold of it.”

Daruk shrugged. “Okey-dokey,” He turned to Zelda, who was staring vacantly out over the horizon, her brow furrowed, deep in thought. “So, are we waiting for Revali, or are we just goin’?”

His words appeared to snap Zelda out of a deep reverie. She glanced up at him. “Yes. Revali knows where we are going, and will be able to catch up with us. If we leave now, we should be there before sunset,” She smiled wanly back at the champions. “Therefore, let us begin this adventure in good faith, and may the goddess smile upon us.”

With that, she stepped out and began walking purposefully forward along the dusty track, every step seeming to anchor her more firmly in her thoughts, and giving her new resolve. The rest of the champions followed suit. Mipha stole one last glance at Link before taking her place in the loose congregation. She had the entire day ahead of her, after all. The entire day.

Surely, he couldn’t avoid her for the entire day.

. . .

It turned out that Zelda’s estimate was slightly inaccurate, as the sun was beginning to set by the time the weary company trudged up to the Riverside Stable. It had been a hard day of walking, and all were tired and worn out; even Daruk, who had been insisting that he could walk another ten miles if he needed to, and Revali, who, not to be outdone, had boasted that he could do another fifteen. The Rito had indeed swooped down to join them several minutes after they began their adventure, though had spent little time on the ground with them, preferring to travel in the air. Knowing Revali, it was probably his way of showing off his species’ superiority

Mipha’s legs ached from the constant, repetitive motion of walking, and her head was slightly cloudy and muddled from the day's energy expenditure. Being a princess, even one as proficient in combat as herself, she was not accustomed to such long-term exertion, and, being a Zora – an aquatic species – she had never really been walking for such an extended period of time. As such, when the champions finally made it to the front of the stable to order their rooms, Mipha was looking forward to a good sit down and rest, and to a warm, gentle fire that gave a pleasant sensation across her usually cold and moisture-covered scales. But, even with the thought of rest and sleep to soothe her aching muscles, Mipha’s heart was heavy, and her spirits even heavier. For despite her numerous promises throughout the day that she would corner and converse with Link, she had failed in doing just that. Despite her many attempts during the course of the trek, Link had continued to evade her increasingly desperate attempts to corner him and avoid her gaze. In nearly eight hours, she had not managed to get in more than a few words towards Link. Words that were not reciprocated. Her concern had been steadily building as he continued to thwart her escape attempts. Now, with their destination in sight, her fear had suddenly erupted into a full-blown panic. And with that panic had come misery.

She had failed.

After arranging three rooms from the stablehand, the champions were directed over to a set of logs arranged around another campfire. They did so in relative silence, the fatigue of the long day still settled over them, and for a long time, no conversation was shared. All sat silently, relaxing in the relief that resting bought them, and working out kinks in worn muscles. All, of course, except Mipha. She was far too busy fretting over Link. She sighed softly to herself, feeling a deep sense of sadness wash over her. In training to become a princess, Mipha had learned how to be a judge of her own people, how to settle disputes amongst them, and how to make the right decision for their welfare against their will if need be. It seemed ironic, then, that she had absolutely no idea how to solve the conundrum relating to her infinitely more complex feelings for Link.

Eventually, talk began to spring up as the company got over their initial weariness and the effects of their relief from exercise started to kick in properly. Mipha, however, did not join in on their conversation. She was deep in thought, searching for ways that she could somehow corner Link before tomorrow, but kept on coming up empty-handed. Her entire strategy had revolved around manoeuvring Link to fall out of earshot behind the rest of the champions, or to otherwise get him into a position when they would not be overheard. Now, at the end of the day, there wouldn’t be any time for that. Link would stay with the champions until they all retired, and would then go straight to his room. Mipha toyed with the idea of trying to get him alone in there, but quickly dismissed it; there was far too much that could go wrong. All in all, she wasn’t feeling much in the mood for casual discussion, and longer for some opportunity to slip away alone without raising suspicion.

That opportunity came sooner than she had anticipated. After conceding that yet another approach would not work ( _what if I managed to block Link access to his room somehow?_ ), she briefly resurfaced from the tangle of thoughts crammed inside her head and caught the end of one of Urbosa’s statements; “-not exactly like we can teleport here, after all.”

Zelda nodded in agreement. “Unfortunately, yes, though that would certainly be useful,” She suddenly shivered as a gust of cold air blew through the campsite, and glanced down hopefully at their empty firepit. “We need to get a fire going. The night is not going to get any warmer as we wait.”

Revali snorted, as if he had been expecting her to have made this conclusion earlier. “And I assume that you would also like to eat at some point tonight?”

Zelda blushed. “Y-yes, of course, Master Revali. We’ll need to gather firewood, however. Is there anyone willing to volunteer?”

Mipha became suddenly alert. This was the opportunity she had been hoping for. Collecting firewood would put her out of the sight of the rest of the champions, allowing her time to think to herself without the distraction of others around her. Perhaps in there, with enough time and effort, she might formulate some way in which she could still salvage this day; still get to Link. It was preferable to doing nothing, at the very least.

She stood up. “If it is acceptable to all here, I… I volunteer myself. I haven’t done much to help this trip, and if by doing this I can be useful in any way…” She left the sentence hanging.

Zelda nodded in appreciation, though it really was all to Mipha’s benefit. “Thank you, Mipha,” she acknowledged, before turning to the rest of the champions and asking, “Do we have any volunteers to accompany her?”

Mipha felt her brow furrow, and a frown creased her face as her thoughts ground to a halt, suddenly startled by this unexpected new obstacle on her path to solitude. Going with someone else would completely ruin what she hoped to achieve here. “Zelda, I assure you, I am willing and able to do this on my own. I am capable of dealing with any situations that may arise.”

“I know you are, but I’d still feel better if someone went with you. Just in case,” Zelda explained. “Many hands also make light work. It will be a lot faster if there is two of you instead of one.”

Before Mipha could even begin to formulate an argument in her defence, Urbosa suddenly stood up, and, with a barely hidden grin plastered on her face, said, “How about our resident knight accompanies her?”

Mipha froze. Her face began to grow hot. Her cognitive functions suddenly crashed as every eye around the circle turned to judge her reaction. _Why did they have to do that_?

“I- Urbosa, really, there is no need for-“ she spluttered, feeling the white parts of her face begin to turn pink as a blush rose to her cheeks. What on earth was she to say to that? “That is to say… I thank you for the- for the offer, but-“

“Oh, nonsense!” said Urbosa breezily. Despite trying to play it as if she was simply doing Mipha a good turn, there was a hint of amusement in the tone of her voice that clearly betrayed her true intentions; to Mipha, at least. She knew what she was doing, all right. “As Zelda said, we need someone to go with you, and who better than Link?”

Mipha felt herself protesting, though even in her own ear her arguments sounded completely devoid of reasoning. She desperately searched for some excuse – something that would relieve her of this embarrassment – but came up completely dry. The fact that all the champions were watching her expectantly made it all the worse. She sent a quick glance over in Link’s direction to find that he had suddenly gone rather tense.

“But- but I was… not in need of an-“

“Besides, you and Link are friends, are you not?” Urbosa queried. “You must have so much catching up to do after all these months apart! Really, there is no one better suited for such a task!”

Mipha kept spluttering vague, unfinished excuses as her mind fervently searched for something which to counter Urbosa’s proposition, but it was a fruitless venture. Urbosa had laid her trap far too well, counting on the shock and confusion that would come to Mipha with such an overt move on Urbosa’s behalf to prevent her from formulating coherent response. She attempted to get something out, failed once again…

…and, suddenly, sense struck her with the force of a thunderclap. Urbosa was indeed doing her a good turn. Only minutes early, she had been privately but wholeheartedly mourning her inability to get Link alone with her, and now she was being offered an ironclad excuse to do just that. And she was _protesting?_ So Urbosa wanted to play matchmaker. Fine. If she wanted it, Mipha would allow her that position, for all it was worth. As long as her own goals aligned with Mipha’s own, then more power to her. With Link’s depressive state and Mipha’s own inability in such matters, she needed all the help she could get.

“All right,” Mipha said, attempting to regain her shattered composure. She doubted that it made up for the incoherent mess she had been just moments earlier. “If it is acceptable to him, Link may accompany me. I see… no problems with that,” She cleared her throat, attempting to force down the last of the blush on her face. “Is there anything that I may use to transport the wood?”

“There’s a wheelbarrow just near the stable.” Zelda’s voice came quietly from somewhere beside her; or, at least Mipha assumed it was Zelda’s voice. It seemed subtly altered in a way that Mipha had never heard her speak before. Feeling a frown crease her face, she turned to the source of the voice.

And drew in a quick breath as she caught sight of the speaker. Zelda’s face was altered in much the same way her voice was. It seemed, for want of a better word, almost _twisted_ – not in an evil way, but as if she was seeing Mipha in a whole new light. Like as if she had never met the real Mipha, and was only now realising what she actually was. This showed in her eyes, which held a combination of shock and realisation. The way she gazed at Mipha made her feel almost uncomfortable.

Mentally, Mipha shook that thought off. It was most likely just a figment of her imagination; blowing little things out of proportion. And, besides, even if there was something wrong, it most likely wasn’t anything major. Her current task, after all, was Link.

“Wonderful,” Mipha replied cordially. She then turned to Link, and gestured for him to go first. “Link, after you.”

After a slight hesitation, during which Mipha could have sworn his eyes flickered briefly to Urbosa, who had retaken her seat, he began slowly making his way back towards the stable. Mipha, after letting him get a good lead, fell into step behind him. She could feel Urbosa’s triumphant gaze following her as she resolutely moved towards where she could just make out the dilapidated shape of a wheelbarrow near the stable wall, the shadows all but masking it from view. Despite giving him a head start, Mipha arrived at the wheelbarrow before Link did. She grasped its cold, metal handles and wrenched it off its supports. She then wheeled it over to the large grove of trees that grew nearby, so thick and close together that it almost was like a small forest; so dense that they would have total privacy. Link followed behind her, his face downcast, and his expression in shadow. She cleared the first group of trees and got into the forest proper.

And, for the first time in months, she and Link were alone.

She parked the wheelbarrow in the middle of a small clearing, where dead wood lay thick around them, and turned to face Link. He did not appear to notice her, or to acknowledge that this was the first time that they had been alone together in months, but simply bent down and began picking up sticks. While downhearted that he hadn’t opened up now they were alone, Mipha was nonetheless determined; determined that she would make him open up, and that she would be the one to relieve him of whatever was worrying him. Then, maybe they could spend some time together, here, in this forest. It was, after all, long overdue. She followed Link’s lead and began picking up sticks of her own and depositing them in the wheelbarrow. She gave the silence between them a respectful chance to be broken by a comment from the other, before beginning her speech, praying that it would have its intended effect.

“Hello, Link,” she began softly, the words echoing through the copse and shattering the silence that had, only moments before, permeated the air within it. Link did not respond; neither verbally or physically. He kept at his task, hefting a rather substantial log on both arms, and, with a soft grunt, depositing it into its container, where it landed with a thud. Mipha was undaunted. She was going to get him to open up, whether he liked it or not - or, rather, whether he knew he liked it or not.

“I haven’t seen you in such a long time,” she continued, equally as softly, trying to sound, relaxed, and friendly, and welcoming. Trying to convey how much she cared about him. She hoped that these words would remind him just how long it had been since they had last seen each other – how close they once were – but, as she glanced over once again at Link’s stoic profile, she noticed that he hadn’t reacted in the slightest. His eyes were as emotionless as ever - if anything, they were extra emotionless, as if he was trying to suppress any he may have. As if he was determined to block her out, to not interact with her, to not look at her, to not _think_ of her.

Mipha’s determination began to show a few cracks in its once seamless front, but she ploughed on regardless.

“You’ve grown so much, even since the last time I saw you,” It was the truth. Link had grown about another inch since the inauguration ceremony, adding to his already impressive height. Mipha was sure that nobody else had noticed, but to her eye, so attuned to Link’s body, it stood out exponentially; and only served to increase her attraction towards him. “I can hardly recognise you as the little child you used to be!”

She smiled, thinking of the days where Link was not the tall, handsome man he was now, but instead a small, enthusiastic and (at least in her mentor, Muzu’s eyes) infinitely irresponsible child, full of endless energy, care and joy. A single look in Link’s direction, however, confirmed her rapidly expanding fears that what she was saying was having no effect on him whatsoever. Whatever had happened to the compassionate and energetic man she had fallen for?  
  
She left a silence in the wake of her words - her useless words - and meandered her way around the grove, picking up bits and pieces of wood that lay near her. She tried to be slow about it, to maximise her time with Link, but, slow as she was going, the wheelbarrow was still steadily filling up, and then she would have no excuse to stay. He would undoubtably leave as soon as it was done. She hastily racked her mind, trying to think of something else to say. Eventually, she decided that continuing her earlier tack – of drawing on whatever nostalgia Link had for their relationship she could find – was the best way to continue. After letting the silence settle for a few more seconds, she began her second verse. She hoped that it would be more effective than her last.

“Remember the time when you last visited the Domain?” she asked, turning to him with sticks in her arms to fully analyse his response, and to try and entice a similar one from him. “It was just before the inauguration ceremony.”  
  
She waited, hoping that he might pick up the memory from when she left off, but there was simply silence. Link was definitely putting effort into ignoring her now. Mipha’s previously whole determination had developed quite the number of fractures by this point, but she wasn’t ready to give up just yet - not until she had something, _anything_ , from Link. Anything to show that he still cared.

“You were-” her voice broke with a sudden wave of sadness, as she remembered the very moment when she had first learned of this. She tried again, “-you were about to become Zelda’s knight, and officially join the champions. It was so good to see you again. I was… I was sorry you could not stay for longer.”  
  
She was beginning to pour more and more of her heart into these statements, and yet, still, he was making no more reaction to them as he had to the ones before. His head was still downcast, his eyes still bathed in shadow, and he appeared to be quite deaf and he made his way back to the wheelbarrow with a fresh bundle of sticks; a wheelbarrow, Mipha noticed with mounting fear, which was practically at capacity. She reached the wheelbarrow at the same time as Link, and paused for a moment after depositing her sticks, searching desperately in his face for some form of recognition, or emotion. But her efforts were in vain - there was none to be found. He turned to walk away, but, before he could, Mipha, on a sudden, desperate impulse, gave in, and went for the direct approach. She had avoided it earlier, not wanting to be overly obvious, but now it seemed that ‘obvious’ was the only way to continue.

“Link?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly with the internal strain she was feeling at Link’s lack of response. Link paused, and, ever so slowly and reluctantly, turned around so that he was facing her. Even though his body was in his direction, his head was still staring blankly at the ground near her feet. He still seemed afraid to look at her. It broke Mipha’s heart.  
  
“Are you… alright?” she went on, her voice sounding desperate and longing. “You’ve… you’ve been rather quiet recently, and… well, I was wondering if anything was wrong?”

Link seemed to hesitate. His body visibly tensed, his eyes, shrouded in shadow though they were, tightened, and he clenched his fists briefly. He looked like he was teetering right on the edge of something; of revealing something perhaps. He gave a sharp inhale, as if in sudden pain. Mipha watched, eager hope in her eyes, praying that he would give in, and tell her. But, with a slight jerk as he came out of his paralysis, Link shook his head, and turned away, walking away to once again gather another bundle of sticks - a bundle of sticks, Mipha noted with despair, which would be the last in the wheelbarrow. Even though she was heartbroken at how it had turned out, she tried to cover it up with her words.  
  
“Good,” she mumbled, her tone subdued. She felt like crying, but managed to hold it in. “I was just wondering… You- you know, I was worried about you, and I wanted to help… if anything was wrong, that is…”

Link deposited his last bundle in the wheelbarrow and stood back, facing her. There was a short silence, where both of them were facing each other, and neither of them looking at each other. Link broke the silence, and turned, beginning to make his way towards the back of the wheelbarrow. Her hopes completely shattered, Mipha turned away with a dull sense of misery and despair, heartbroken at his lack of response, his reluctance to even acknowledge her. And, as her parting statement, she whispered five words; five words in which she opened up, and fully gave up a bit of her heart to the silence of the night.  
  
“I really missed you, Link,” she whispered, the sound echoing slightly through the trees, before fading into the mists of the past. Like all the words before it. Like the Link she had once known. Like the times when they could talk openly, with no barriers between them. Like when they could count each other as friends; people who had no secrets from each other. Like when she was certain that he still cared for her. She moved away, intending to make her slow way back to the campsite, but suddenly stopped short as a voice from behind her whispered back.

“I missed you, as well.”

Mipha whipped around to face Link, her heart thudding in her chest at this proclamation, unable to believe the evidence of her own ears that told her yes; Link had, indeed, reciprocated her statement, her confession, that he had shown he still cared. He was still staring resolutely at the ground, but, as if sensing her disbelieving gaze upon him, he abruptly glanced up, and, though he still averted her eyes, gave a small, sad smile, as if to confirm that it was, indeed, he who spoke, he who had missed her. Then he turned, gave the wheelbarrow a shove and began to make his way out of the grove. He did not look back.

Mipha watched him leave, feeling the elation and shock flowing freely through her body. He was still there. _Link_ was still there, _Link_ still cared, and _Link_ had spoken to her. Not the stoic figure that she had previously been presented with, but _Link._ He had smiled at her. Admittedly, it was a sad smile, but it was the only show of emotion that he had displayed in the past two days, and the mere fact that he was still capable of such emotion – capable of such expression – filled Mipha with hope. Just a moment ago, she had been contemplating simply giving it all up. Now, she had reason to continue.

Link was still there. He just needed to be persuaded to come out. Maybe he could be convinced to do so permanently.

Eventually, she came out of her paralysis of delight, to find that Link had already left the copse behind and that she was alone, staring euphorically at where he had left. She quickly forced her giddy mind back into gear, jogging back towards where the rest of her company sat, not wanting for her absence to become too big of a talking point amongst them. She soon spotted the circle of light amidst the darkness of the night - the champions had obviously managed to get a fire going - and sat down on the log next to Zelda, which she had previously vacated when she went to get firewood. Link was standing nearby, looking once again withdrawn, his manner similar to that of a rather solemn statue. Urbosa glanced up at her as she sat down, and a smile came across her face.

“There you are! Took you long enough,” she called out gleefully. Despite her apparently casual manner, she studied Mipha quite intently as she attempted to divine information from her expression about the content of her departure and reappearance “We were beginning to worry about where you had gotten to.”

Mipha winced. So much for being unassuming in her return. “My apologies, Lady Urbosa. I was… I was- uhh…”

Mipha was saved from having to invent something that she had supposedly been doing by Daruk, who asked something of Urbosa in a loud and boisterous voice, mercifully detracting attention away from Mipha as he did so. Urbosa turned to respond drily to his statement, Revali chimed in with his own (most likely negative) opinion, and the conversation was back on track. Leaving Mipha to get lost in her own thoughts once again. She remembered very little of the rest of the day. Looking back, she vaguely remembered being passed a bowl of something hot, and accepting and eating it mechanically. She had some idea of the rest of the company getting up to go to bed, and that she followed suit after them. She had limited recollection of absentmindedly opening the door to her room and putting her adornments by her bedside, her hands moving automatically to gently lay them in the places that tradition demanded. And even less memory of laying down to rest in the dark room that she once again shared with Zelda. She did, however, remember one memory far stronger than the rest of them. The Hyrulean Princess seemed to be treating her differently than she had the previous night. She did not engage her in conversation, but shot her furtive looks over her shoulder whenever she thought that Mipha was looking away. Mipha wondered vaguely to herself what had changed about Zelda’s attitude towards her, but, completely overshadowed by what had occurred before, she spared little time thinking of it.

Eventually, lying in bed, Mipha was able to calm her wildly overexcited mind just enough to fall asleep, far later than she had last night. But even as she slipped into the abstract world of the unconscious, she thought of Link, and his confession, and her hopes for their future. She hoped that she could reach him again. She hoped that he would reach back, as he had tonight. And she hoped – she desperately hoped – that he felt the same way as she did.

And, like she did every night, she dreamed of nothing else but him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww… what a sweet little ending! I don’t know, maybe it’s just me, but the idea that Link is such an ever-present part of Mipha's life that she even dreams solely of him seems just so perfect. Call it obsession. Love shares many similar characteristics with obsession, after all. But I personally think that the image it paints is beautiful.
> 
> A fun fact for all of you who care – this fanfiction was originally written with 10 chapters. It was only back in very early November when I started editing that I realised that Chapters 2 (Journey) and 4 (Princess) really were just pointless filler. They could not justify their existence, so their existence was terminated. Their openings were paraphrased into the proceeding chapters (Conversation and Nightfall), and, well, here we are. I personally think it’s for the best. Certainly, it helped me get to the point of the (overly long) chapters, at least.
> 
> Oh, and, by the way, if you're reading this, it's possible you've already done this, but, in case you haven't, I would recommend checking up on this on an almost daily basis; as that's the rate at which I'll be updating this. Assuming, of course, that you want to read it that much. If you don't, then don't. If you do, make sure you do. It's so simple even I might be able to understand it.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed Chapter 2. With that beginning, things really start to heat up over in Chapter 3 and beyond.


	3. Nightfall

In stark contrast to the previous morning, Mipha woke up immediately, with complete awareness from the moment she opened her eyes. A feeling of great wakefulness overcame her, energy borne of last night’s joy, and she threw of the covers that entangled her and swung her legs around and out of the bed. They landed with a dull _thud_ on the wooden-panelled floor below. Zelda was still asleep in the opposite bunk. Lying on her back, her arms by her side, the only sign of life was the slow but steady breathing that whistled from between her lips. In sleep, her face was devoid of the stress and perpetual worry it so often was the canvas for while she was awake. Taking greater care to remain silent now she knew her roommate was still asleep, Mipha crept across the room to the dresser upon which she had placed her ornamentation last night. Despite having been utterly distracted from her task when she had done it, the jewellery was arranged in perfect formation. That order had been drilled into her, long ago when she first received them as a mark of her future ascension to the Zorana throne. She personally found such ritual wholly redundant; she doubted the ornamentation cared, anyway.

As she quietly draped the elaborately tooled silver ornamentation over her head, her thoughts began, as they had last night, to wonder back to Link. Last night had certainly been a turning point in their new relationship; proof that what once was lost could now be reclaimed. She had no particular plans for today – no ideas, even hazy ones, of how she was to continue – only the thought that she must capitalise on their victory; for it was _their_ victory, not hers. She wasn’t certain how she was to do that, but, if last night taught her anything, it was that opportunities often present themselves to those patient enough. So, she would be patient. She would wait for the next opportunity. And when it came, she would make the most of it. And maybe, she could bring Link out of the plague of sorrow that had descended upon him. If there was only one person who could, it would be her.

She finished tying the champions sash on the buckle near her shoulder, and silently began to move towards the door. Opportunities would present themselves, all right, but for now, she just had to play this casually, and wait for them to arise. Grasping the doorknob, she slowly turned the handle, and stepped into the outside world. The cold air hit her like a slap across the face. She shivered violently, briefly wishing that she wore something more substantial that some silver and a blue strip of cloth. Urbosa was already awake, and sitting next to the campfire which the champions had abandoned the night before, which she had mercifully relit. She was staring vacantly off into the distance, her brow creased in thought, and hadn’t yet noticed Mipha. Mipha moved over to the heat emanating from the flames, her body thankful for the relieving warmth that washed over it as she did so.

Urbosa glanced up as Mipha sat down on a log adjacent to her. “Ah, Mipha. Good to see you up so early,” Mipha gave a small nod of acknowledgment, before letting herself sink into the warmth that radiated from the fire. Urbosa allowed a respectful silence to form, before continuing with. “Actually, I’m glad that I managed to catch you like this. I was meaning to talk to you about… well, a topic I believe that we both find extremely interesting,” She turned a grin to bear on Mipha. “Now seems like the perfect time to do so, doesn’t it?”

Mipha wrenched herself out of her short-lived period of lazy relaxation and glanced over at Urbosa, puzzlement written out across her face. “What about, Lady Urbosa?”

Urbosa’s grin widened. “I’m talking about last night, Mipha.”

Mipha felt her heart begin to beat faster at her words, and she felt a blush rise to her face. Her voice was noticeably higher in pitch as she reflexively played dumb. “What- what about it?”

Urbosa rolled her eyes in mock exasperation, as if disappointed that Mipha would give such a lame and predictable response. “You know exactly what I mean. Last night. You. And Link. Went off into the forest together. And you’ve got to think me an idiot if you believe that I have no idea what might have occurred in there, with what you were doing when you came back - or, rather, what you _weren’t_ doing. I have my suspicions, but I’d like to hear it from you as well .”

Mipha’s heart continued to accelerate. “I… I- what makes you think I’ll tell you?” she squeaked out, frantically grasping at straws that might help her to opt out of this conversation. Even as she said it, she knew it was hopeless. As proven yesterday, Urbosa was far too skilled to be evaded or outwitted by someone of Mipha’s expertise. She unobtrusively played her cards in such a way that when it came time for her to make her move, like she just had, everything was already in place.

“Because,” Urbosa replied in a tone that suggested she was explaining that one and one made two to a very slow child, “I’m the one who suggested that Link go with you, remember? You argued at the time, but from the way you looked when you came out of there, things worked out pretty well for you in the end. And that’s all thanks to me. Come on. You owe me for that.”

Mipha racked her brains for anything that she could use as an excuse, but, like the previous night, she came up with nothing. In all honesty, she wondered why she was putting up so much resistance; she had already concluded that Urbosa’s intervention in this may be what she needed, after all. Her own ineptitude at cornering Link had made it clear that she was way out of her depth here – and it _was_ Urbosa who had made the move for her. If she wanted her help, which had already proven more effective than floundering around on her own, she had to be prepared to pay for it. With a sigh, she conceded her argument, and nestled her head in her hands as she wondered where exactly she was to begin. Urbosa watched her passively, her expression betraying none of the victory she was doubtless savouring.

“I… I just got Link to say something to me,” Mipha spoke up eventually, once she had modulated her voice and got her racing heart under control. “It is really not anything spectacular, Urbosa. I was just- I was just excited that he was still… well, still even capable of speech.”

Urbosa studied Mipha’s face carefully, possibly searching for any duplicity in her reply. Evidentially, she found none. Leaning back on her log, she studied Mipha intensely, her once-playful expression now replaced by a look of great thought, like it had been when Mipha had first arrived.

“What did you say, and what did he say in reply?” she asked, her voice noticeably softer and more empathetic than before. Her tone conveyed the impression that this was more than just a passing amusement to her – that she was somehow invested in this. That it really mattered to her. Mipha wasn’t entirely sure what it meant to her, but it clearly meant _something_.

Mipha hesitated briefly, before responding with, “I… I told him that I had missed him… and he reciprocated.”

She glanced up at where Urbosa sat, leaning backwards on her log, once again thinking deeply. There were no more questions for Mipha - Urbosa had apparently acquired all the information that she desired - and so they sat there for another round of silence as the air around them got steadily warmer, and the heat of the fire got steadily more uncomfortable as it did so. Mipha wondered why Urbosa seemed to feel so strongly about the relationship between her and Link, but eventually gave up. There were infinite number of possibilities, on an infinite spectrum of likelihood. Any of them could be correct.

Still, she resolved to keep an eye open for any more moves the Gerudo Chief might make.

Over the course of the next hour or so, the rest of the champions got up, in varying states of consciousness. Revali and Daruk seemed to be mostly fine - Revali did complain about a wide variety of things that he found unpleasant, but, then again, he did that a lot - while Zelda looked like she hadn’t managed to get to sleep at all. She sat down next to Urbosa, and stared blearily at the ashes of the fire that Daruk had put out with one gigantic footfall in response to the rising heat of the day. Link was the last to make his way up to the campsite, and, like yesterday, he did it as if he had already been up for several hours, entering from the side near the grove that he and Mipha had occupied the previous night. Mipha, who was prepared for this event, did not undergo the same reaction as she did yesterday, but simply nodded and smiled at Link had he sat down on one of the logs around the fire. She was hoping for some new revelation from him, but the only acknowledgement he gave was a small nod in return. As conversation began to flow amongst the champions, Mipha’ focus drifted away from Link and became progressively more focused on Zelda. The princess seemed distracted, as if she was in thought; thought that wasn’t necessarily particularly pleasant to her. Not only that, but Mipha believed that she periodically kept glancing up in her direction, only to withdraw her gaze when she realised that Mipha was watching. Whenever Mipha tried to study her more closely, she averted Mipha’s gaze. It reminded Mipha uncomfortably of how Link had recently been behaving towards her. She wondered what was troubling Zelda, and what had prompted it. She remembered Zelda’s attitude to her last night. She worried that Mipha – that she – might be the problem. Yet she couldn’t see how.

Eventually, with the sun climbing its way ever further into the sky, the champions decided that, if they were to reach Outskirt Stable at a more favourable time than they had reached the Riverside on, they should get moving. They packed up their provisions - Mipha felt her eyes once again lingering for an inordinate amount of time of Link’s startled expression in the photo – and assembled outside to wait while Zelda formalised their departure with the stablehand. When she returned, there was a brief silence among the champions, before, eventually, she shattered it.

“Well,” she began, her voice betraying the fatigue that was etched onto every line of her face, “we have made it past the first day, and the first step. It has been said that the first step of a journey is always the longest. We now take this next step, which shall bring us ever closer to our goal in this journey of discovery.”

A murmur of consent passed through the company, and, of one accord, they moved forward on the next step in their quest, and began making their way along the worn and dusty road to face whatever trials the future had in store for them.

…

Several hours later, the group of champions arrived at their last rest stop before they entered Gerudo Desert; the appropriately named “Outskirt Stable”. Maybe it was just the stigma surrounding the name, but, to Mipha, this next stable felt just a little more decrepit than the previous two they had slept at. The company arranged to reserve their usual number of rooms, deposited their belongings in them, and made their way to the resident campfire to undergo their traditional nightly debriefing. Mipha sighed wearily as she sat down heavily on a chair near the firepit, which creaked softly under her weight, light as it may be. The day had been another long, tiring and uneventful one. Besides a short stop for lunch at the Gatepost Town, the long hours had been filled with more walking; though, even though the distance was even greater than yesterday, somehow the exertion didn’t feel as all-encompassing to Mipha. Perhaps the first day had been the worst of them, and her body had gotten more accustomed to walking, and the rest of the days would be less tiresome. She hoped so, anyway.

The champions all sat down on the various other seats nearby – except Daruk, who, wisely, had recognised that such a flimsy seat would not support his weight and had instead pulled over a large rock to squat on, and Link, who, as per usual, remained standing, his fingers occasionally stroking the hilt of the Master Sword, which was slung over his back, being constantly on the alert. Similar to last night, there was a period of tired silence, before it was broken; this time by Zelda.

“Champions,” Zelda spoke, “early tomorrow morning we will officially enter Gerudo Canyon, the beginning of Gerudo Desert, and all the traits associated with that area. Deserts, of course, bring high temperatures, lack of precipitation and moisture and high winds with little shelter or cloud cover. I assume most of you have no pressing issues with this?”  
  
There was a general consensus of nods and general acknowledgement from the pilots, with the exception of Mipha, who had, once again, been distracted by the princess’s weary, distracted tone. Though, of course, her primary concern that day had been keeping herself on the lookout for opportunities to try and work on Link again, she would have to have been blind _not_ to notice the princess’s unusual behaviour. While her earlier fatigue had mostly evaporated after a few hours of travel, she had continued to treat Mipha with a sense of aloofness; refusing to acknowledge her when Mipha was looking, yet continually, almost unwillingly, glancing at her when she thought she was not. Earlier on, this had been only uncomfortable, and mildly troubling. As the day had progressed, however, it had borne a sense of concern towards her fellow princess. Mipha remembered that this behaviour had begun after Link had been cleared to accompany Mipha to collect firewood. It must have had something to do with that, but, for the life of her, Mipha couldn’t figure it out.

_What did I do wrong?_

Distracted by thoughts of Zelda, it came as a bit of a shock as the princess herself turned to Mipha and addressed her – it was rather like as if her thoughts had suddenly turned around and spoke directly to her. Zelda’s face was tight, and her gaze kept missing Mipha. It made the question feel strangely awkward, and added to Mipha’s concern towards her fellow princess. “I am aware that you are the expectation to this rule, Mipha. Is there… anything that we need to account for before we begin our crossing?”

“Ah- yes, of course,” Mipha assured her, her words coming out sounding slightly disoriented to match the confusion in her mind. She took a moment to gather her thoughts and banish her worries before continuing. “Unsurprisingly, Zora are not adapted for the desert climate. While the heat is little problem to us – the domain can become rather hot in the warmer months – the lack of moisture in the air can prove… well, more problematic.”

Zelda’s lip twitched slightly with some unknown emotion. She continued to stare just past Mipha, instead of meeting her eye. “Will you be able to make it across the desert? If there’s... any possibility that this trip poses any serious risk to you, there is no requirement for you to come.”

“Usually, no, I would not, but, while we were in the Gatepost Town, in knowledge of our destination, I purchased this.” She finished her sentence by withdrawing a small ceramic jar bound shut with a large cork. Zelda leaned forwards, her eyes narrowing as she studied it. She clearly didn’t recognise it.

“This contains moisture-trapping solution that has been used by the Zora people to traverse low-humidity climates for millennia,” she informed the group. “It will trap moisture on my scales long enough to last the hours of sunlight. It won’t be particularly comfortable, but will be bearable, and will not have any adverse effects on my health. I thank you for your concern, Zelda, but I assure you that there will be no complication.”

“Good,” Zelda said, her voice sounding quietly relieved, before asking, “and… you can do that all yourself?”

Mipha hesitated for a second, before admitting in a faintly embarrassed tone, “I will need someone to put the solution on my back, where I… cannot reach.” She was, of course, directing the question at Zelda, but, deep within the corners of her mind, a hazy image of Link applying the solution instead began to form. She felt his hands running smoothly over he, experienced the sensation of him, so close to her, stroking her – and, as she strayed on this idea for just a fraction too long, he moved away from her back and began touching her in several other places as well. Realising just how far she was going, she blushed, and tried to stem these thoughts. She should not indulge in such fantasies; she had better self-control than that.

“I can do that,” Zelda replied softly, and Mipha nodded, feeling slightly disappointed in spite of herself. She shook her head in an attempt to disperse the notion, though couldn’t quite rid herself of the feeling of pleasure and delight that this fantasy-Mipha felt in her little alternative universe.

“If no-one has any major problems with this next stage of our adventure,” Zelda continued quietly, “then I believe it may be time to discuss the… unique trick to boarding Vah Naboris,” She gestured towards Urbosa. “Urbosa, would you…?”

“You mean it’s time to introduce a problem of our own,” Urbosa said drolly, standing up like she had the first night. “Naboris has a rather aggressive way of deterring intruders. And by that, I mean it spits lightning bolts at anyone who comes near,” Urbosa’s mouth quirked upwards. “As you can imagine, getting hit by one of those will ensure that you have a very bad day.”

“In that case, I can assume that you’re either suicidal or have a solution to this predicament?” Revali asked brashly. Urbosa replied with a mock smile.

“Funnily enough, I _do_ have a solution; though thank you for asking, Revali ,” she quipped happily. “That solution being the Thunder Helm - a helmet that, when worn, has the ability to absorb the impact of a lightning strike and dispel the damage from its electrical charge away from whoever happens to be wearing at, as well as everyone within its radius.”

She threw a quick glance at Revali to ensure he wouldn’t interrupt, before continuing. “There is, however, a small hiccough in that plan. The Helm is kept inside Gerudo Town. I’m sure you are all aware of the strict rules surrounding gender segregation there, and so, most unfortunately, we’ll have to leave both Revali and our fine Hylian knight here behind at a small settlement just a few miles of the town called Kara Kara Bazaar - a plan I can’t possibly envision going wrong.”

Predictably, Revali took objection to her proclamation. “Are you honestly asking me to stay with… with this- this mute Hylian excuse for a knight?” he demanded, his voice sounding both insulted and incredulous.

Mipha forced down a sudden rush of anger towards Revali, clenching her teeth together to relieve it, which sent spikes of pain through her skull as their sharp points rubbed painfully against her flesh. Urbosa, always on top of these things, simply nodded.

“Unless you want to spend the night wandering across the desert,” she confirmed, before adding thoughtfully, “Of course, if that is what you wish, we could arrange that for you.”

Revali growled and conceded his argument, but not before shooting a, “just don’t get in my way; I don’t even want to know that you’re there.” over his shoulder towards Link, who made no reaction. There was an awkward silence following this exchange, before Zelda once again spoke up.

“If that is all, we may as well get to bed,” she said. “We have another long walk ahead of us tomorrow.”

There was a hazy murmur of agreement around the ranks of the champions, and the company began to disperse to their rooms at the stable. Mipha found herself staring almost longingly at Link as he retreated into his room behind the hulking figure of Daruk. She wished for nothing more than to stay behind with him at Kara Kara, but, as she racked her brains desperately, she found no excuse to do so; short of the truth, which was an excuse she would not give. For a brief moment, she wanted to follow him – longed to be the one to initiate contact again – but quickly discarded the notion. It didn’t work well when she was the one who pushed.

_Opportunities often present themselves to those patient enough…_

She gave a small, quiet, but audible sigh, and trudged over to the room she shared with Zelda. She entered to find Zelda already in the process of undressing, taking off her day clothes to put on her nightgown, which lay on the bed in front of her. Mipha moved over to her side of the room, and began her nightly ritual of stripping off her jewellery and laying it beside her bed. As she unwound the blue silk wrapping given to her as her sign of championship, she heard a tentative voice behind her.

“You know my knight, don’t you?”

Mipha turned, startled, to find Zelda facing her. Her hands were clenched tightly by her side, her lips and eyes were tight, and her stance held uneasiness and yet resolution in what she had done. It was clearly she who had spoken; though it seemed unbelievable, considering how averse she had been acting the entire day. Most notably to Mipha, at least, was the face that, for the first time since last night, she had finally met her gaze. It was a hesitant gaze, one that clearly showed that she had committed to a path that she wasn’t entirely sure on the outcome of, but a steady one nonetheless. It spoke of determination to quiet her mind from what had been plaguing her. It demanded answers, no matter how hard they might be to hear. Mipha had little understanding of why Zelda had asked such question – no knowledge of why the answer was so important to her – but she could sense in her tone that this was the source of the trouble she had been facing this entire day. And, if it relieved her of that tension, she would provide an answer. Even if she didn’t know why.

“You mean Link?” Mipha asked softly, just to clarify that they were, in fact, referring to the same knight. As she had suspected, Zelda nodded slightly in response.

“Yes, I do,” Mipha told her, her voice once again filling with nostalgia. Thinking about these simpler times was like bliss to her. “Link arrived at the domain at the age of four, and stayed there for many years. He just a reckless child, and I would often have to heal his wounds. As such, we became rather closely aquaintanced .”

There was a short silence, in which Zelda hesitated briefly, before asking softly. “When you knew him, was he… was he the same as he was now?”

Mipha was stunned for a. Out of all the things that she had expected Zelda to say, this was somewhere near the bottom. Was it simply coincidence that this question was so close to the mystery that had been taking up so much of Mipha’s time as of late?

“May I ask what prompted this question?” she requested, her voice betraying the bewilderment she felt.

“I-” Zelda’s eyes fell momentarily from Mipha’s own, before she whispered desperately, “please. Please, just tell me. I… need to know.”

Mipha dropped her own gaze, unable to hide the rush of emotion that flooded her own eyes and the sudden warmth of tears that pierced them. She took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, a deep sense of sadness and regret washing over her. Sadness at the bittersweet memories of that time. Regret that she was no longer in them.

“No,” she whispered, her voice almost half-strangled by a sob as she did so. She took a moment to compose herself before looking up and continuing, more strongly this time, “He was not the same. He was much more expressive, and full of energy that he lacks now. He … he was so much more open back then.”

Zelda looked like she was mentally digesting that information. She stared at the floor, an unreadable but obvious conflict raging behind her eyes, her hands alternatively clenching and unclenching into fists as she did so. She took a sharp breath in and let it out shakily, as if trying to vent the emotions that were visibly rising up inside of her.

“Then what changed?” she asked, more to herself than anyone else. Mipha shook her head sadly.

“Of that, I have no idea,” she replied. Zelda swallowed hard, looking almost on the brink of collapse, closing her eyes tightly as if in pain. She exhaled, opened her eyes, unclenched her fists and glanced up.

“Thank you,” she said simply.

Mipha inclined her head. “It was my pleasure.”

And at that, Zelda smiled; the first real, genuine smile that Mipha had seen her smile all day. The contrast was frightening, and when Mipha looked back at the false, forced smiles that she had presented earlier in the day – in all the time Mipha had known her – they hardly seemed like smiles. This smile was sadder, melancholier, and yet so much more real. It transformed her face from the face of the Zelda that Mipha had known into something else; something truly beautiful.

“Goodnight, princess,” she told Mipha softly, before turning and, without another word slipping under the covers of her bed without another word, placing her head upon her pillow and settling down to rest with a soft sigh.

“Goodnight, princess,” Mipha echoed, before doing the same.

She lay in bed for a while, listening to the soft chirping of the crickets as they awoke for the night, and the rustling of the wind as it flowed smoothly through the leaves of trees and bushes around her. And she thought; she thought about Link, and what had prompted Zelda’s question, and how Mipha was to feel about it. She was unsure relating to all three accounts. But she knew that her answering Zelda’s question had left the Hyrulean Princess with a sense of greater understanding, and of relief. And for that she was thankful. Eventually, amidst much thought, the heavy weight of fatigue took her over, and she slipped into the twilight realm of unconsciousness once again.

. . .

Mipha woke suddenly, staring straight up at the roof in the position she had fallen asleep in, information from her senses flooding back as she abruptly regained consciousness. She glanced blearily up at the window, squinting as bright light streaming through it blinded her, and forced her to turn her head away. When she had acclimatised to the sudden change in lighting, she looked back up to discover that what had woken her had not been the harsh light of the sun, as she had expected, but the soft, silvery light of the full moon. She frowned to herself. Judging from the position of the moon, it was late at night - or possibly very early in the morning. Why had she woken so prematurely? She lay quiet for a while, before suddenly becoming aware of a soft crackling sound from somewhere outside. She tentatively recognised it as the sound of burning wood, which meant that someone had restarted the fire. Who would have purpose to do that in the middle of the night? A single glance across the room told her that it couldn’t have been Zelda; she was still soundly asleep on the opposite bunk, lying on her back with her chest rising and falling periodically as she inhaled and exhaled in turn. Then who was it?

Mipha debated whether or not to investigate for a while, before slowly and carefully slipping out from under the covers of her bed and hitting the floor with a soft _thump_. She wasn’t going to get any sleep until she discovered the source of the renewed fire, so there was no point trying. Moving across the room slowly, as not to disturb her roommate, Mipha sidled up to the dark wooden door and reached out a hand to grasp the doorknob. Taking a brief moment to collect her thoughts, she turned the knob and slowly opened the door. Stepping through into the dark night beyond, she turned towards the campfire to find…

Link, sitting alone by the fire, his hands clasped together in his lap. He was dressed as ever in his champion's tunic, while the Master Sword lay on the ground beside him, still in its sheath. His back was to Mipha, and he was staring off into the distance, apparently dead to the world around him.

Any vestiges of fatigue that Mipha had been feeling suddenly disappeared as a sudden shiver ran through her spine, freezing her in place and sending her heart pounding wildly. Her mind was painfully aware that she and Link were alone, in the middle of the night, and - most acutely this last part - that she was naked, as she had been in bed. This last fact shouldn’t have bothered her - Zora had, traditionally, never put much emphasis on clothing - but she found that being outside, alone, with Link, who was from an entirely different culture that viewed clothing (and, most importantly, its absence) in an entirely different manner, made her extremely self-conscious about her lack of ornamentation. Eventually, after several tense seconds, her body relaxed, and her mind began to race. This was not a situation that she wanted to be in; if Link turned and saw her, it would be very awkward for the both of them. She made a move as if to slip away back into her room, but, as she took the first step through the door frame, Link straightened, jerked his head up, and, without turning, called out into the night.

“Mipha.”

Mipha refroze, her heart hammering in her chest as a wash of emotions flowed over her; too many and too fast to comprehend. Link had noticed her. She had failed in that regard. And yet, he had reached out to her. Despite previously avoiding her at every opportunity, he was now the one to make the first move. The fact that Link had been the one to initiate this conversation had vastly exceeded her expectations. She felt the sudden resurgence of hope inside her chest, and so, unsure of what to do, she simply stood there, wrought with conflicting emotions, and waited nervously for him to make the next move.

“Mipha,” Link said again, his voice soft and gentle, as if he was still thinking deeply. It was a voice that seemed very mature and attractive to Mipha; which, of course, only added to the complicated pile of emotions building up inside of her. “Sit with me. Please.”

_Opportunities often present themselves to those patient enough…_

Almost unwillingly, Mipha felt her legs begin to take her closer to the fire. A million scenarios were running through her mind - the potential problem of her nudity still prominent amongst them - but she simply couldn’t pass up this opportunity. She needed to know what he wanted.

As she sat down on the log next to her, she noticed that his eyes tightened and his face turned pink as, out of his peripheral vision, he noticed how little she was wearing. He did not look at her, however, for which Mipha was, for once, thankful for. She didn’t think her already overworked heart could take it if he so much as glanced at her naked body. She felt herself blushing as well at his reaction, but, luckily, he made no issue of it. She couldn’t blame him; she herself had no idea what to do. She was very much out of her depth here, and she knew it. So, she simply sat, waiting tensely for him to make the next move – but he made none.

Eventually, Mipha had to speak up to break the heavy silence that was fast becoming awkward. “It is lovely to hear you speak again, Link.”

His only response was a short nod of acknowledgement. Not a speck of emotion crossed his face, and he showed very little sign that he had even heard her question. It was most likely this that pushed Mipha over the edge, and, perhaps slightly foolishly, ask him again the question that had already proven futile.

“Are you sure that nothing is wrong, Link?” she asked, before immediately cursing herself for asking it again. Link had suddenly gone tense, and, though his expression hadn’t changed, Mipha could almost hear the sudden whirring of his brain.

“What makes you say that?” was his eventual response. It was delivered in a carefully neutral tone, his voice giving nothing away about the intense thinking that was clearly transpiring. Mipha hesitated briefly, before deciding that opting out would be more awkward than pressing on at this stage.

“Well,” she began awkwardly, “it’s just that, as I said earlier, you’ve been rather quiet as of late, and… well, it is not really like you. When you were a child, you were so much more enthusiastic than what you appear now, and you just seemed so much… happier.”

As soon as she spoke the last word, Link flinched violently, as if he had been struck, causing Mipha, in a sudden flurry of nerves, to apologise profusely. Link waved her apologies away with his hand, and she subsided, waiting with bated breath as he composed himself, both physically and mentally.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he replied simply, his voice reset back to its neutral state. “I’m fine. People change, that’s all,” Then he smiled; a sad and forced smile, it had to be admitted, but it was the still the second smile that Mipha had seen him produce in approximately half a year. Her heart warmed at the sight of it, and it comforted her greatly as she was reminded once again that, yes, he was still capable of such feats of emotion. “But I do thank you for asking.”

They lapsed into another period of silence, Mipha’s heart still warmed by the smile that Link had given her. The silence stretched on, and once again was teetering dangerously close to the boundary of becoming tense and awkward. Mipha was just beginning to wonder what on earth she was to say nect, when, surprisingly, Link spoke up.

“What’s been happening in the Domain while I was away?’ he asked. Mipha looked at him sharply, startled that he would be the one to break the silence. “How is Sidon?”

Mipha’s face broke into a warm smile at this new overture from him. Casual conversation; this was a huge step up from the mute Hylian she had known only yesterday. Her heart swelled, but she tried not to let it show. “Nothing much has changed. Events in the Domain really don’t move all that rapidly, you know. The Big Bad Bazz Brigade are still running their exercises, and getting in the way of everyone else. Muzu is still overly protective, and Sidon is as irresponsible and troublesome as always.”

She smiled, almost to herself. “I believe that you have been quite the influence on his behaviour.”

“Sidon would be like that regardless of what I did. It’s simply in his nature,” Link said, his facial features giving no hint of humour or emotion away as he did so. They remained blank and impassive, as if he was slightly disconnected from the conversation. “I’m sure that you were like that when you were his age.”

“I would like to think that I was just a _little_ more responsible back then than Sidon is now” Mipha said drily. Her excitement was mounting. _Could this be it?_

“Well, of course _you_ would,” Link replied, with his second smile of the night. This one was far smaller, far shorter, and far more real than his first, and it gave Mipha fresh incentive to continue. She laughed softly in response, hiding the motion with her hand. Now _this_ was the Link she had once known.

“Muzu certainly is not impressed by my brother’s lack of attention during his studies,” she told him. Just a little further, and maybe she could steer the topic to where it needed to go. “He, for one, believes that you have influenced him in that way.”

Link shrugged. “That’s not saying much. Muzu would find a way to blame anything on me, assuming, of course, that’s it’s something he disagrees with.” Mipha nodded in simple acknowledgement of that fact.

“He does have a few good points, however,” she commented. “You certainly did inspire themes of recklessness during your brief stay at the domain, you cannot deny that.”

Link’s lips twitched upwards; not necessarily in a smile, but Mipha was counting it as one anyway. Her heart began to beat faster. This was far more progress than she had ever dreamed of in one night. She vaguely wondered what had inspired him to be so much more talkative to her, but quickly desisted. Much more important was that he _was_ talking to her, which was far more openness than he had displayed just twenty-four hours earlier. “My _brief_ stay? I was there for six years, and have, after that, visited quite the number of times.”

“Yes, but _I_ would. The lifespan of a Zora is, after all, far longer than that of a-”

Suddenly, Link winced, pain briefly flickering across his face, and Mipha’s excitement faltered as she realised that she had somehow touched a sore point. The conversation ground to a halt, and Mipha’s rising hope crumbled around her as it did so. She had made so much progress, and now, because of something she said, it all seemed to have been worth so much less than what she had hoped. And yet she couldn’t understand what she had said that had warranted such a reaction. Something about the lifespan of a Zora? Mipha couldn’t see how that could have such a negative impact on him; but, then again, she couldn’t really read him in the same way she used to when he was young. The old Link had been an open book to her. It had made conversation so easy – so open and honest. The new Link had become far too proficient at guarding his emotions, much to Mipha’s dismay. She was completely out of her depth, forging on blindly through the dark, with no understanding of her partners intentions. He was the one to initiate conversation. What had he hoped to gain from it?

Mipha was just contemplating how she was to gracefully exit the scene when Link, rather hesitantly, spoke up quietly.

“Mipha,” he asked softly. Mipha, slightly shocked that he would once again be the one to initiate conversation, turned to him in surprise. “May I… ask you a question?”

Mipha smiled warmly at him, though inside her worries were beginning to climb a peak at this proclamation of his. _What could he possibly want to ask me?_ “Of course, Link.”

Link visibly hesitated for a second, before ploughing on. “Do you… miss those days?”

Mipha suddenly froze. “W-what do you mean?” Contrary to what she said, she already had a good idea of exactly what he meant. _Could it just be coincidence? Could he really mean it?_

“The days before the threat of Calamity Ganon,” Link told her, still not meeting her eye and staring resolutely into the fire. Was Mipha imagining it, or had a trace of longing entered his voice? A taste of bitterness, and of loss? “The days before the champions, when we had no responsibilities, and no worries. When we were free.”

She stared at him. He did mean it. He meant it, as she did. He felt it, as she did.

“I- yes. Very much so.”

Link nodded. Was it just Mipha’s imagination, or was there finally a trace of some emotion in his eye? She leaned forward, hoping to get a better look, but it was gone. There was a pause, before, without willing it to happen, she felt the question now burning in her heart rise unbridled onto her lips and burst forth from her mouth.

“Do… do you miss them as well?” she asked. Her voice sounded quietly, but obviously, desperate.

Link tensed, almost imperceptibly, and took in a sharp breath. There was another short pause, before he closed closing his eyes and slowly exhaled

“More than anything.”

_He does. He does miss them. He does feel it. Could he feel more…?_

Abruptly, Link stood up. “I’m going to bed,” he told her. “I suggest that you do the same sometime soon. Goodnight, Mipha.”

“Goodnight, Link,” Mipha echoed, feeling slightly shocked as he picked up the Master Sword and walked away, out of the light of the fire and into the shadows. She had expected him to sit for much longer following his confession, and she had hoped to press harder; to find out why he had missed that time – the new question that now consumed her. But apparently, he felt the conversation was over. Perhaps he had had revealed enough for one night. Mipha felt otherwise. She desired so much more. She wanted, more than ever before, to actively chase her dream, to hope, desperately, that it may be true. That what he had missed most – what he now wanted most – was he. Just as what she wanted most was him.

He had left Mipha plenty to think about, however, and, despite his advice, she sat by the fire for several more minutes before getting up, putting out the fire with a bucket full of water she found lying helpfully nearby, and making her own way to her room. Opening the door carefully and quietly, she silently crept across the room, and into her bed. In reteropect, it seemed laughable that when she went out, nudity was at the forefront of her mind. Now, her lack of ornamentation was near the bottom, as her head was swarming with thoughts about Link. And, even after slipping underneath the warm, soft covers, still, she lay awake for many hours, thinking to herself. Wondering why he missed those days, and hoping against hopes that what she dreamed may be true. That maybe, just maybe, he did indeed reciprocate.

When she did eventually fall asleep, thoughts of only one person dwelled within the confines of her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we begin the end notes, can I just take a moment to complain about the fact that AO3 fits far too many characters in their lines? Like, what might be a seven-line paragraph in MS Word turns out to be a three-line paragraph in AO3. It means that I often have to condense two or more paragraphs to have my writing look any good. If you think that a section of work would have done better on another paragraph, it may well have been one at some point. I mean, it’s nothing huge, but still. With that out the way, with the end notes.
> 
> I assume that we understand why Zelda reacted in the way she did? Why she wanted Mipha to say what she did? Why she had treated Mipha differently when she learned that Mipha had known Link as a child? If you don’t, look up Zelda’s diary, because it’s not going to be explained later on. To be honest, I wasn’t sure whether to put that whole part in, but I eventually decided that I would. It made sense for Zelda’s character.
> 
> On a completely unrelated note, Mipha really doesn’t wear much clothing on a regular basis, doesn’t she? I mean, if I was Link, I would find that rather off-putting (especially if I harboured romantic feelings towards her). Then again, Link’s probably used to it. Or maybe she actually covers it up. Or maybe she has some way of hiding it (lots of animals do). I don’t know. Take your pick. I’m going to stop thinking about it before I lose my mind.
> 
> And see what I mean about things starting to get real? Maybe it’s already obvious to you what’s going on here with Link – where he stands on all this. Maybe it’s not. My point is, it’s slowly beginning to climb to the climax of the story; which is Chapter 7, by the way. And that’s when everything comes together.
> 
> By the way, this is the only time we see Link and Mipha hold something that resembles a normal, everyday, casual conversation. They’re a bit busy talking about more serious stuff later. So, enjoy it, short-lived though it was.
> 
> These end notes turned out longer than I anticipated. But for now, it’s another chapter. And, as Zelda would put it, “Another step forth on our journey together.”
> 
> I’m pretty sure I’ve got at least a passable imitation of her character, anyway.


	4. Ambush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This next chapter contains Graphic Depictions of Violence. By that, I mean, descriptions of people getting stabbed by long pointy sticks and being inconsiderate enough to bleed all over the ground, as well as mentions of several vital organs becoming no-longer-vital. If this in any way discomforts you, please consider skipping this next chapter. Just thought I’d warn you.

The next morning arrived in a strange blur for Mipha. She groaned, in a half-awake state, digging herself deeper under the covers and raising a groggy hand to ward off whatever it was that had woken her up. Her head was foggy – it was as if she had never gotten to sleep at all. All she wanted was to sink back into the soft embrace of her bed and sleep for another few hours; but whatever had woken her clearly disagreed. It took her a few moments to realise that she had been woken by someone shaking her, and calling to her in an anxious, incessant voice. She blinked to clear the distortion clouding her eyes, and peered upward at her mysterious arouser. After a few seconds, she realised that it was Zelda who was shaking her, and, moreover, she was looking rather harried. After another couple of seconds, she was able to make out what the princess was saying.

“Mipha! Mipha, please wake up!” Zelda was begging in a high, tense voice. “Princess Mipha, you must wake up, the others are waiting for you! Mipha! Wake up! We’re all waiting!”

It took another few seconds of concentration before the meaning of these words penetrated the thick fog surrounding Mipha’s mind, and, when it did so, she sat up suddenly, still half-asleep. Zelda backed away from her and watched anxiously as Mipha blinked rapidly to clear the remaining traces of fatigue that still shrouded her.

“Pardon?” she asked, her voice slightly slurred from her sudden revival. “Who’s waiting for me?’

“Mipha, listen to me,” Zelda told her, making an effort to reduce her pitch, calm down and carefully accent her words. “You’ve overslept, and all the other champions are waiting for you. Earlier, we were debating whether or not to wake you, but now we really do need to move if we are to make it to Gerudo Canyon Stable by tonight.”

Suddenly, Mipha felt wide awake. “I- I’m holding up the entire company?”

“Yes, I’m afraid you are,” Zelda said gravely. “As I said, earlier, we were unsure of whether or not to forcibly wake you, but now we need to leave, and there is no other option. I’m… sorry for not doing it earlier, but I thought it best…”

“I- please convey my most sincere apologies to the champions,” Mipha told her quickly, hastily throwing off her covers and sliding out of bed as the full reality of the situation finally hit her, “and inform them that I shall be on my way as soon as I am fully dressed.”

Zelda nodded and dashed out of the room, while Mipha hastily arranged her jewellery across her body. Haste forced a rather lackadaisical approach to adorning her ornamentation – it was lucky she wasn’t with any other Zora, because the care she took in her dressing would be seen as disrespectful of Zorana culture and unbecoming of a princess. Link would most likely know the proper way of doing things, but she was counting on the fact that he wouldn’t make a scene of it. Doubtful he would even speak to her in daylight.

For a moment, her hands slowed as she remembered the previous night. Its existence, and what she had achieved there, seemed so astronomical in their relationship, and she still felt a rather giddy feeling whenever she thought of it. She still had to ask the question of why he had missed the ‘old days’, but the fact he even missed it at all was massive to her. If he missed _that_ , then _,_ in her eyes, it was only a step away from him feeling that same way. Unfortunately, as she looked ahead, past Gerudo Canyon, there didn’t seem to be many opportunities for her to converse with him. She would be in Gerudo Town while he was at the Oasis, and on the Divine Beast itself, she would need Urbosa’s permission to command the beast to allow her to reach him; something that would definitely raise some eyebrows amongst the champions. If she missed him at the stable, she missed him. Still, she had made so much progress last night. Maybe one more night would do it. Perhaps tonight would be the night. And if it wasn’t, well, there was not much she could do. There would be no more opportunities past that.

Yet she still found herself wishing she could stay behind with Link at Kara Kara Bazaar… 

Mipha finished tying the strip of blue cloth that she traditionally wore as a sash, and began shoving her belongings into her bag; they seemed to number so many now she was on a time crunch. Without sparing a glance at the photograph, or a quick read of the letter, she slung the bag over her shoulder, rushed over to the door, and thew it open, hearing it slam behind her as she sprinted over to where the rest of the champions stood waiting. Urbosa turned and gave a small smile as Mipha skidded to a halt next to the champions, clutching her chest and catching her breath in ragged gasps. The distance from the stable to her destination wasn’t great, though she had put on a huge burst of speed in her panic – which, like long-distance walking, wasn’t part of the typical Zora’s skillset.

“Well, look here,” Urbosa remarked jovially, giving Mipha a friendly nudge with her arm. “Looks like our second resident princess has finally decided to show up after all! Good to see you up again, Mipha.”

Mipha, who had finally managed to catch her breath enough to speak, hastened to apologise in person. “I… I just… my apologies for holding you up,” she gasped in between irregular inhalations, “I… I, uhh, simply slept in, and…”

Urbosa waved the apology with a chuckle. “Don’t worry about it, Mipha. Sometimes, we all just need that little extra bit of rest to keep us going for the day. I, myself, have undergone rigorous training to try and quell these effects, and it _still_ happens every now and then. I’m sure you… ah, _had your reasons_.”

Mipha nodded, though inside she felt slightly nervous at the knowledge that Urbosa doubted her weak excuse of ‘simply sleeping in’. She was sure that she was going to have to face the music later on, though, for now, she was still rather relieved that the Gerudo chief hadn’t decided to make a scene, any more than Link had. Later, Urbosa would most likely arrange another little ‘talk’, by when she would hopefully be less fatigued. She began to prepare herself for it.

Speaking of Link, the knight in question was staring ahead towards their destination, both his posture and form giving away no indication of fatigue. He had most likely witnessed many long nights in his training in service to the Hylian guard. She found herself impressed at his stamina – but, then again, everything about him impressed her nowadays. She was slightly disappointed that he hadn’t noticed her, or otherwise acknowledged her presence, even unobtrusively, though she supposed that was to be expected. Still, she had hoped that after last night she might see a thaw in his attitude during daylight hours. In retrospect, it was a rather foolish hope, but, then again, last night had been an exceptionally extraordinary night.

“Now that we’ve finally managed to round up every last member of this expedition,” Revali said, sounding rather put out, “I once again most sincerely request that we begin this honestly rather pointless journey, and stop lollygagging around like a pack of schoolchildren!”

“Y-yes, Revali,” Zelda said nervously, sounding like she had taken a hit at the choice of some of Revali’s words. It wasn’t hard to guess which ones. “If we are to reach the end of the canyon, we really must be going. Shall we, champions?”

With the reply from the assembled company unanimous, she smiled tense and began moving forwards to mark the first step in this section of their quest for knowledge. The rest of the company formed a loose congregation behind her, following the path that stretched towards the imposing cliffs of Gerudo Canyon. As Mipha moved up into formation behind her, Zelda turned her head briefly and shot another smile towards Mipha before returning her eyes to the road ahead. It was just a little gesture, but it held none of the hesitation or reluctance that Zelda’s smiles towards Mipha had for the previous day. It wasn’t like the one she had just offered to the champions. It was truly genuine. In the grand scheme of things, it was such a small and insignificant instance, but still, it pleased Mipha to know that the barrier that had briefly separated her from her fellow princess had dissolved completely, leaving no trace of its existence. Even though she still didn’t know why the answer had meant so much to her.

In any event, it seemed that Link was at the forefront of most people's minds these days.

. . .

It had been a few hours since their entry into the desert, and already Mipha was beginning to feel the effects of their new environment. Sand often got stuck in between her toes, and the layer of naturally-produced moisture that usually provided a buffer between her scales and the air was slowly evaporating as they got ever closer to the desert. She desperately wished to halt the procession now so that Zelda could apply the solution to her, but, as lunch was only an hour away, she decided to tough it out until then. She walked in silence for a few minutes longer, slowly falling behind the rest of the company as she did so. Leading the group, Zelda walked upright and erect, her head held high as if determined to show no signs of the strain that was evident in the sweat gathering on her neck. Daruk was striding along happily, the bag on his back clinking with his every move. Revali had flown off nearly half an hour ago, and Link… well, Link was much the same as ever.

Suddenly, Urbosa’s voice came quietly from behind her. Mipha jumped; she hadn’t noticed her approach.

“Still waiting to hear about that horribly disturbed sleep you had last night, Mipha.” Urbosa muttered out of the corner of her mouth, as not to alert the others to her conversation.

“Why should I tell you?” Mipha questioned. Having been expecting Urbosa to make a move such as this, she had already planned out her response. “I don’t owe you anything this time. If anything happened - and, of course, I am not saying that it did - I have no reason to tell you about it.”

Urbosa smiled, as if amused by Mipha’s attempt at dissuading her. “Oh, come on, Princess. How do you I wasn’t the one who persuaded Link to go outside, where he might have met you?”

“Wha- how did you know that he was outside?” Mipha demanded in an embarrassed fashion, whipping her head around to glare at Urbosa, feeling her intricately-crafted plan shattering inside of her as she did so. This only served to entertain Urbosa more.

“Ah, so he _was_ outside, was he?” she quipped. Mipha felt her face go red as she realised how easily she had been caught out. Urbosa gave a short laugh in response. “See? There’s no harm in telling me what happened. There’s no judgement here, and no-one else to hear about anything you might have... well, gotten up to while we were all sleeping.”

Mipha was forced to turn her face away as the blush intensified. _Gotten up to while we were all sleeping…_ Urbosa certainly knew what she was doing. Within just three lines, she had managed to put Mipha in a position where either Urbosa’s accusation – an accusation that both caused Mipha’s heart to increase its tempo in excitement and her stomach to squirm uncomfortably in revulsion – she would _never_ do such a thing – would stand, or Mipha would have to admit the truth. Wondering when she would ever learn to quit attempting to outmanoeuvre Urbosa in these matches, Mipha gave a loud sigh.

“I am afraid that nothing particularly dramatic occurred, Urbosa,” Mipha muttered to her. “All that happened is that I had a bit of a conversation with Link about when he was younger. During it, he admitted that he misses the times when were close friends. I was simply so excited that I had trouble sleeping,” She glanced over at Urbosa, who’s expression had gone thoughtful. “Does that satisfy your curiosity, Lady Urbosa?”

Urbosa seemed to focus on her, having drifted slightly into thought as Mipha had been speaking. “Mostly. I appreciate your honesty, Princess Mipha.”

Mipha nodded cordially in response. Urbosa did not ask anything else, leaving Mipha with nothing but her own thoughts to distract her from the heat and a raging thirst that had appeared in her parched throat. So far, her experience of Gerudo Desert was mostly dry, and she longed to call for a break to apply the solution that would protect her rapidly drying scales. In the middle of this line of thought, a question suddenly popped into her head.

“Urbosa?” she requested softly. Urbosa glanced over at her and waited patiently for her to continue. “May I ask you a question?”

“You just did, but, yes, you may ask another.”

Mipha took a short breath, before asking, “Why is it that you have such a vested interest in my relationship with Link?”

Urbosa nodded in response, her brow furrowing. “Well, if I have to be completely honest, you’ve just asked a question I’m not entirely sure of the answer to myself. I mean, in one regard, I suppose it’s just my nature to want to know exactly what’s going on, and, combined with the unintended bonus of the whole thing embarrassing you exponentially, it’s far too entertaining an opportunity to pass up.”

She paused, and a smile settled on her face. She looked over at Mipha.

“But, on another level,” she continued, “I’m beginning to believe that I’ve actually come to care about you, and your feelings, and Link, as well. In a way, I’ve begun to root for you, to hope that this whole relationship thing, whatever it is, works for you. For both of you. And I suppose that my way of doing so is… well, is to keep bringing it up.”

Mipha stared at Urbosa, feeling both surprised and warmed. She had simply assumed that Urbosa enjoyed teasing her, and had a vague interest in her relationship; but now, it seemed, her interest had been far more than simply vague. The fact that she actually cared for them filled Mipha’s heart with happiness. If Urbosa was on her side, surely together they could get to Link. If Urbosa believed in them, surely it was possible. After a few seconds, Mipha managed to speak. “Thank you, Lady Urbosa. I had… no idea that this meant so much to you.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Urbosa replied cheerfully. “I challenge you to see two youngsters trying desperately to connect and not begin to take their side. It’s incredibly cute. By the way, I’m glad to hear you’ve made progress.”

“Thank… thank you,” Mipha said softly. She broke off from Urbosa’s gaze to turn her observations back to Link, who was striding forwards, expressionless as ever, with his head held high and eyes still blank, and she felt the glow in her chest fade a little. In the light of the new day, it didn’t seem like she had done quite as much as she had assumed. Of course, she had an extended conversation with Link last night, but how much further did she have to go before she could rescue him - if, indeed, she could?

She decided to ask Urbosa’s advice. What Urbosa had done for her had as of so far been positive, and had inspired progress when Mipha had made none. Tonight would be her last opportunity this trip. It felt like her duty to make this work – and, to do that, she needed all the help she could get.

“I am not sure how much further I have to go, however,” she admitted. “I may have made some progress here, but for all I know, my progress could be the first steps in a marathon. Urbosa, do you have any-“

Link stopped abruptly. One moment he was walking steadily forward, the next dead in his tracks. He stiffened, his eyes darting rapidly around the clearing, the muscles in his face twitching slightly. His right hand made a small, almost imperceptible motion; the rest of the company might have disregarded it as nothing, but Mipha, having known him for so long, knew that it was an instinctive move towards his sword. Mipha stumbled mid-sentence, her voices trailing off as she froze, staring at Link. Urbosa stopped as well, and looked back at Mipha with concern in her eyes.

“Mipha?” she asked, her voice tinged with a trace of urgency as she quickly realised that, whatever had made Mipha freeze, it was not a joke. “What is it, girl?”

Mipha pointed a shaky finger at Link, her throat dry. By now Link’s hand had made its way towards the hilt of his sword, and he was stroking it, as if anticipating having to use it in the near future. Urbosa turned, and tensed as well upon seeing Link’s posture. She might not know him nearly as well as Mipha did, but by this point, she didn’t need to.

“Damn,” she murmured under her breath, before turning to the front of the caravan, now several paces ahead and yelling, “Princess! Get to cover! We’re under attack!”

Zelda slowed, and glanced over her shoulder curiously at Urbosa. Urbosa gestured for the princess to get behind a set of rocks that were situated just off the path, and Zelda, her eyes widening with sudden understanding, began to sprint over to them as Link finally unsheathed the Master Sword. The Sword’s blade flashed in the sunlight as Link held it aloft, just as Zelda dashed behind cover and, around them, a dozen red-clad warriors appeared out of thin air, suddenly appearing against an inverse Sheikah eye; the symbol of the Yiga Clan. The champions formed into a defensive circle in response, and for a moment, both sides stared at one another as Urbosa drew her own sword, Daruk whisked the Boulder Breaker out of his rucksack, and Mipha tensed, her own hands empty, intending to make a dash for the bag as soon as she could.

Then, as if of one accord, the masked assassins rushed forward, brandishing their vicious sickles and moving in for the kill.

. . .

Daruk was the first to retaliate, slamming the Boulder Breaker into the ground with such force that several Yiga footsoldiers stumbled, the floor beneath them suddenly in turmoil. In response to their momentary display of weakness, Daruk leapt forward, swinging his club over his head to bring it down upon an unfortunate Yiga member. Mipha didn’t wait around to see if it had connected, however, as she had a few problems of her own.

She had rolled back immediately after the combat started - not easy to do with fins, but she managed – before making a mad dash for the bag which Daruk had discarded, where the tip of her trident could just be seen poking out. She reached out a hand to grasp it. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a Yiga blademaster running to intercept, their sword drawn back, and she threw herself forward, dodging the stab by an inch and falling next to the bag with a soft _thud_. Grabbing the trident, she instinctively rolled to one side across the sandy floor as the Yiga’s next attack slammed down across the ground where she had been just a moment earlier. She leapt to her feet, causing the blademaster to hastily back of, suddenly nervous now that she held a weapon with greater range than theirs. She quickly adopted a fighting stance and they both squared up, each keeping one ear open for surprise attacks from behind.

The Yiga suddenly lunged, which Mipha neatly sidestepped. The lunge, however, had put the Yiga too close for her to use her Trident (which was long and, being made of metal, rather inflexible), so she gave a bit of ground herself. Perhaps seeing the success of their last move, the blademaster immediately lunged again, aiming to skewer her while she was off-guard and not expecting another attack. It turned out to be a mistake on their behalf. Instead of sidestepping, Mipha simply planted the butt of the Trident into the ground and allowed their own body weight to impale themself upon it. The Yiga spasmed slightly as the tips of the Trident penetrated their stomach and intestinal tract, giving a cry of shock and pain audible even behind the mask, before dissolving into the inverse Sheikah eye, leaving only a slippery layer of blood and gore behind on the silver of the Trident to prove their no-longer-existence.

Mipha was then immediately engaged in combat with a footsoldier, who, seeing their comrade’s demise, stayed warily out of range of her Trident.

While they both waited for the other to make the next move, Mipha had time to check the situation around her. Urbosa had made much headway, already with the bodies of a few Yiga piled up around her, illustrating the fight with irregular staccato _cracks_ of Urbosa’s fury. Daruk was taking on a blademaster, keeping them off guard with his boulder breaker. And Link… 

Link was, as ever, doing beautifully, taking on numerous enemies at once and winning against them all. Currently engaged in combat with a pair of Yiga footsoldiers, he executed strong and skilful strokes flawlessly, keeping the pressure on the Yiga without sacrificing any of his own defensive capabilities. Mipha would never be able to replicate the speed and finesse with which he fought, but she could certainly see just how exemplary his skill at combat was. She had never seen anyone close to his level of proficiency. She felt herself getting slightly lost watching his intricate dance with his attackers, the inaudible, pulsing beat of lunge and thrust, slash and hack. _His strength and skill…_

Having your attention on nonessentials during combat was not considered good form, and, with a sudden stab of pain, she received a slash across her arm for her inattention. Wincing in pain as her own blood ran down her forearm, she drew up the trident and used it like a quarterstaff to block their next strike. She took a step back, hoping that her attacker would do the same. Unfortunately, the Yiga pushed their advantage, moving too close to offensively use her Trident, but in the range where their sickle was most effective. The Yiga was just drawing back their sickle to strike when an arrow suddenly flashed through the air and punched through their neck, exiting the other side cleanly accompanied by a fine mist of blood. The Yiga fell to their knees, clutching uselessly at their neck, before disappearing in a flash of red light.

Revali swooped down from the sky, letting out a Rito battle cry and brandishing his Great Eagle Bow, another arrow already fitted on the string. He fired it at a Yiga footsoldier where it caught them in the chest, causing them to trip and fall onto the dusty ground before subsequently vanishing. Revali nocked another arrow and drew back the string, searching for another target. Mipha, getting a grip back on her Trident, turned to the now substantially diminished Yiga force, wondering who she was to assist. The champions appeared to have already eliminated most of their attackers. She took a single step towards the melee when suddenly a sharp cry of pain rent the air around her, causing her to whip around, her heart thudding in her chest.

Link was cut down, a deep gash across his chest and a blademaster standing over him with their windcleaver, ready to deliver a finishing blow. Distracted by the pair of footsoldiers, he had managed to take them out but had been struck as he turned to combat his new foe. Now, he was on the ground and defenceless against his attacker, blood soaking the light blue of his tunic to an ugly brown. Mipha felt her legs beginning to churn into action even before her mind could comprehend what she was seeing, taking her in a sudden sprint towards Link; though she knew that she was too far away to save him. Desperately, she yelled a challenge at the blademaster, who looked up and noticed her, but seemed determined to finish off their first victim before moving onto the next.

Out of options, Mipha chucked her Trident at the blademaster in a last-ditch attempt to distract them; again, not something that conventional tactics recommended. The blades, of course, did not puncture their skin - the Lightscale Trident was not designed for throwing - but the force of the heavy metal hitting them knocked the blademaster off-guard for a moment, mercifully causing them to stumble and take their sword away from Link’s chest. The blademaster, distracted for only a second, turned towards her, their sword held high behind their shoulder. Mipha ducked their first swing, which whistled over her head, before scooping up her Trident and blocking the next, wincing slightly as the loud _clang_ from where the weapons intercepted rang directly next to her ear. The Yiga withdrew their windcleaver and drew it back for another attack, this time aiming to cleave off her head.

They never got the chance to make it. Mipha, fuelled by anger born of fear for Link, reacted faster, ducking down before driving the Lightscale Trident up under the Yiga’s ribcage. There was a short moment of resistance, before the Trident punched through the blademaster’s skin and up their chest, skewering their heart and puncturing their lungs. The Yiga’s blade dropped from their numb hand as Mipha withdrew the trident, its barbed tips ripping open even more flesh and sending a torrent of dark blood rushing down their chest. Wordlessly, the Yiga toppled forward into a pool of their own blood before vanishing. Mipha, seeing this, hastily discarded her bloodied weapon and knelt beside Link, her breathing fast and her fear running rampant. 

From what she could immediately assess, the cut wasn’t deep. His ribcage appeared to have taken the brunt of the force. Unfortunately, that was all she could see. She squinted at the wound, attempting to divine more meaning from it, but she couldn’t. There was something blocking her assessment of the damage; and Mipha knew that it would also hinder her healing abilities. She took a deep breath in, and let it out slowly. She wasn’t sure exactly how she was to feel about this. She didn’t think she wanted to do it. And yet, even though her apprehension, a small part of her body – the more primal part – was looking forward to what she was to do.

“Link,” she told him, her voice carefully measured, as to not reveal the complicated mixture of emotions she felt. “I’m going to need you to help me take off your tunic. It’s… in the way.”

Link grimaced, whether from the pain or the prospect of stripping in front of her, she couldn’t tell, but nodded all the same. He slowly raised his arms above his head, allowing Mipha to carefully slide his shirt up over the wound, and slip it off him. Discarding the tunic, she took in the scope of the damage – and, though she tried not to, so much more.

Hormones rose up inside of Mipha like steam from boiling water as she laid eyes on Link’s bare chest. She had seen it so many times before, back when he was younger, but now that she felt so differently about him, she seemed to notice things she never had before. He was muscular, but not overly so. The lines that marked his chest was well defined, and, to Mipha, who was used to seeing scales and fins, the skin and hair that marked his body – the warmth that ran through him – seemed so exotic, and so attractive. Beautiful. She certainly hadn’t fallen for him because of what he looked like. But now, seeing him like this, she found it hard not to.

She attempted desperately to force down these overwhelming thoughts, and instead focus on the task at hand. As she had surmised, the cut had simply scraped the ribcage; damaging plenty of flesh and severing numerous veins which were now leaking rapidly-coagulating blood over his chest – his beautiful chest – but leaving the organs intact. It was dangerous, certainly, and a wound that most medics would take seriously; its close proximity to the bone would make stitches difficult. Mercifully, it wasn’t beyond the range of Mipha’s Grace. She raised her hands to his chest, and thought of him. Almost immediately, her hands flared a light blue colour, letting off a luminescent glow that was warm, but not bright, and she began the task of healing his wounds. She had done it a thousand times before. And yet this time, it felt so different.

Mipha sewed together torn flesh and reconnected severed veins, feeling the cut that marked Link closing, and the flow of blood drying up. She did not touch Link’s chest, however. Though it would have been far more effective to simply trace the cut with her fingers, she feared that, if she did so, she would completely lose her composure. Simply observing Link’s half-naked form had sent her emotions into complete turmoil; and she prided herself on her self-control. She didn’t want to think what would happen if she touched him. Eventually the bleeding stopped completely as the veins closed, and the cut on Link’s chest faded to a white scar – a shadow of its former self. Mipha hurriedly took her hands away from Link chest as he winced, before hesitantly standing up, clutching his bare chest. Mipha hastened to stand upright as well as Link took several deep breaths, before bending down to pick up his soiled tunic. He looked up; not at her, but at the ground near her feet.

“Thank you,” Link said eventually, the words sounding quiet and subdued. Mipha wondered, with a sudden blush, whether he had noticed what he had felt just then.

“It- that’s okay,” Mipha mumbled, distracted once again by his bare chest. Now that it wasn’t leaking blood, it looked whole, like it was supposed to be. _Beautiful…_ She hastily averted her eyes to spare her confused mind the temptation, and turned to the rest of the champions. The Yiga had been defeated. The ground was littered with vicious sickles, windcleavers and splashes of dried blood, but, aside from that, there was little to show that they had even existed in the first place. The rest of the champions were congregating around a nearby rock, though they were blocking her view and she couldn’t tell why. Urbosa was the first to notice her.

“Ah, there’s the next member of our happy guild!” she called, beckoning Mipha over. “What were you doing when the fighting wound down?”

Mipha blushed ever more furiously. “I was… healing Link.” she explained, attempting to sound as if that was all it had meant to her – when, in fact, it had experienced so much more. Urbosa’s mouth twitched as she caught sight of Link’s bare chest, but thankfully declined comment.

“Well, if you’re done with Link-” a smile briefly broke through, “-then there are, unfortunately, other members of our company that suffered injuries.” She gestured behind her, and it was only then that Mipha noticed that Revali was sitting on that nearby rock, his right wing twisted at an unnatural angle. Mipha gave a small gasp and, followed by Urbosa, rushed over to kneel by Revali, who muttered something savage under his breath. She grasped the wing in both hands, ignoring the sounds of intense dissatisfaction emanating from the Rito, and gently ran her fingers across its length, feeling for the area of most damage as Daruk, Urbosa and Link gathered around to watch them. Revali attempted to jerk his wing away from her, but she was far stronger than she looked.

“Pardon my rudeness, princess, but are you going to heal anything or is the purpose of the whole activity to cause me discomfort?” Revali spat at her pithily, his voice tight with suppressed pain. Mipha glanced up, meeting his anger and pain with a calm presence, as she had been taught to do in training for her duty as a healer.

“I’m simply attempting to assess the extent of the damage, Master Revali,” she replied quietly, intending her words to soothe Revali’s pain, though it appeared she would have more luck attempting to make assurances to the rock he sat on; Revali continued to mutter viciously under his breath as she located and identified the source of the damage. Eventually, she sat erect and proclaimed to her entourage of onlookers, “The bone is broken. I’ll have to heal it.”

Urbosa’s eyebrow raised, though from what Mipha had no idea. Daruk shifted around excitedly as if this prospect interested him, while Revali snarled, “Oh, noticed, have you?”

Mipha ignored his undisguised insult; everyone became shorter and more irritable when they were in pain. It would, however, be more bearable if Revali had been a more pleasant character to begin with. She raised her hands to his wing, where the fracture was.

She was about to begin healing, when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Urbosa sidle up towards Link and murmur something to him in a low voice. In response, Link nodded slowly, his eyes downcast. Mipha wondered what exactly they were talking about. Was Urbosa trying to convince Link to open up to her? Somehow, she didn’t think so; Urbosa had plenty of time to do that already. Maybe she was trying to get him to tell her exactly what happened when Mipha healed him? She wasn’t sure. She momentarily discarded this puzzle with a slight shake of the head. She had work to do on Revali.

Still, the conversation left her with a slight but undeniable feeling of foreboding.

“Hold still,” she commanded (Revali looked like he desperately wanted to object), before moving her hands to gently massage the fracture. Her hands flared once again with cool blue light, and she began the laborious affair of healing a broken bone. First, she negotiated the bone back into its proper place - Revali inhaled sharply as the bone popped back into position, but thankfully withheld the wisdom to stay immobile - and then began the process of artificially accelerating the body’s natural healing mechanisms. She felt the hematoma forming around the splinter like an expanding light along Revali’s skeleton, and encouraged its growth, feeling it bloom underneath her fingers like a flower waking up to spring.

After a dozen or so tense seconds, she hesitantly withdrew her hands and the light between them faded. Revali glanced over at her and made an action as if to exercise his wing, which Mipha stifled with her hand.

“That is all I can do for now without risking more damage,” Mipha told Revali softly. “Broken bones are… complicated. I shall require another session or two to tend to it before it is once again in full working order.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll make a wonderful patient, Revali. You have the right disposition for it,” Urbosa chimed in drolly, having finished her mysterious discussion several seconds earlier. Mipha searched both their faces for any indication of their topic of conversation, but found none. She felt a cold stirring of apprehension in her stomach as she studied Link’s emotionless expression. Urbosa glanced over at Mipha. “What are you going to do now, doctor Mipha?”

Mipha gave a small smile, though internally the sense of foreboding was expanding. She was missing something here, and she knew it. “For the record, Lady Urbosa, I am _not_ a doctor. We will have to create a makeshift sling to support the wing until the bone is fully healed. I believe that Zelda would have both the skills and the materials necessary to handle that part of the operation.”

Revali snorted, as if she had suggested something preposterous. “Pardon me asking, princess, but how do you expect me to fly with one of my wings in a sling?” he asked a rather condescending tone of voice. Mipha glanced up at him and raised an eyebrow in a very Urbosa-like manner, feeling a slight smile playing across her lips despite herself.

“You are not to exert that wing at all until it is fully healed, or you risk severely damaging the bone again. That may take anywhere between a dozen hours and a few days, and I am afraid that during that time you will have to walk.”

Revali’s eyes widened, as if this revelation had come as a massive shock to him. “But… Mipha, surely you are not suggesting that I must walk with you lot for… I… I refuse to-”

“Revali,” Mipha put in calmly, but he ploughed on with his objections; “-simply cannot stand walking for the entire duration of the day… I apologise, but-”

“Revali!” snapped Mipha sharply, cutting off Revali's tangent and causing him to recoil; she had never spoken to him in such a harsh voice before. Even Urbosa looked surprised at the sudden ferocity in her tone, and Daruk actually stepped back a few paces out of shock. Link looked unaffected, though, then again, he had heard her speak like this on occasion. “I sympathise with your reluctance to walk, but under no circumstances am I allowing you to exercise that wing until I can certify that it is fully healed!”

“But-”

“I am sorry, but it is not going to happen!” She wrenched him to his feet and rather forcefully led him by his good wing over to where Zelda was already poring through her embroidery kit. She sat him down on another rock next to the princess, where he sat, looking honestly rather shell-shocked.

“If you don’t mind, Zelda, would you please construct a sling to support Revali’s broken arm until I can fully heal it,” she requested of Zelda in a rather calmer voice, if one which was, once again, a little distracted. A conclusion was beginning to form in her mind, and she wasn’t sure she liked where it was headed. Zelda glanced up, Link’s shredded Champion’s Tunic in one hand, and nodded before beginning to look through her kit for the necessary supplies.

“Of course, Mipha,” she replied, matching Mipha’s tone word-for-word as she withdrew a large piece of white cloth and a pair of scissors. Mipha made sure that Revali was sitting perfectly still, before moving back to watch him.

And then, as she did, the meaning of Urbosa’s conversation – of the nagging feeling of worry that she had begun to feel – was suddenly revealed to her in a flash of insight.

How could she have been so stupid!? It was Link’s duty to remain on high alert after an attack such as this and, because the attack had occurred under her territory, Urbosa’s duty to back him up! Urbosa had been quietly confirming with Link that they would both take the night watch - they would be up all night together, remaining on the alert for any secondary attack. They could be half a mile away from the stable, doing their duty to protect the Hyrulean Princess, the hope of Hyrule. And, because of that... there would be no time for talk. 

Earlier that day she knew that tonight would be the last opportunity before they hit the desert. Now, she wouldn’t even have that opportunity. Even Urbosa would object to Mipha distracting Link by remaining on guard with him; he was supposed to be unobtrusive, and on high alert, not talking with friends. There would be no other opportunity. The tale ended here.

Maybe she could try something – to sneak out and see him, anything. But, as she tried to formulate exactly how she would manage that, she knew it would be of no use. Link wouldn’t talk to her when Zelda’s life may be dependent on his attention. He took his duty seriously. He wouldn’t allow himself to become distracted by anything. There was simply no way that she was going to be able to push her advantage tonight. And it broke her heart. She had believed – convinced herself, even – that just one more night would do it. She would have asked him what she had wanted to ask him. He would have confirmed her hope. They would be together. And now it seemed that it would never happen.

The tale ended here.

Mipha waited until Zelda had returned with a length of cloth before, forcing back the hot tears she felt in her eyes, instructing Revali to stay still as she turned away to leave. She needed some time to process everything; to mourn the death of her last chance this trip for his redemption. As she did so, she heard Revali mutter a final comment to her under his breath.

“You know, princess, during those times when you’re not swooning over that boyfriend of yours, you can actually come across as rather forceful when you want to. My compliments.”

Mipha felt her face redden, and was thankful that Zelda seemed not to have heard this final remark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers – tale doesn’t end here. The whole “Chapters: 4/8” thing probably gave it away.
> 
> In all honesty, I really dislike this last part. It seems so inelegant, so fabricated and forced; like I simply shoved in an excuse for why Mipha couldn’t see Link for the rest of the trip. Which of course, I did. I shoved in excuses to keep the story flowing - like every author on the face of this planet has done. But the trick is to make it feel natural, like a logical extension of the story. This, however, does not feel natural. It feels like what it is. Forced. I reiterated on this about half a dozen times to find something that vaguely made sense, and even then, I still really don’t like it. If I had some more time, I might be able to go back and rewrite some stuff to make it work. But I don’t. I’m sorry.
> 
> Also, something I want to quickly draw your attention to; in this chapter Mipha gets kind of intimate with Link – certainly the most intimate she’ll get until Chapter 7. When writing this, I wanted to stress that, when it came to exactly why Mipha had fallen for Link, how he looked wasn’t a major part of it. She was more interested in his, as she put it, “kindness and determination to help those in need”. Still, she is a teenage girl – for her race, at least – and so she does notice these things about him. I needed to walk that fine balance of both making his body feel important to her, and making sure to make it clear that, really, it was only a small part of why she loved him. I’m not sure I succeeded, but it’s the thought that counts.
> 
> And, with this chapter over, we are at the halfway mark of the story. Four over eight. They’re just about to enter Gerudo Desert – and there, everything gets even more exciting. There, the climax I mentioned earlier occurs. There, all will (eventually) be revealed. See you soon.


	5. Oasis

The blazing desert sun was bringing its daily journey across the heavens to a close as Mipha staggered across the shifting sands, trying desperately not to lose her footing amidst the unstable ground and tightly gripping her Trident, which she had kept on her since yesterday’s attack. Up ahead, a series of lights and buildings surrounding a large oasis marked the champion’s upcoming destination; Kara Kara Bazaar. Contrary to all expectations, the rest of the journey there had been remarkably uneventful. The champions had remained on the _qui vive_ for any additional or follow-up attacks on behalf of the Yiga clan, but they never came. This led Urbosa to speculate that the group of Yiga who had attacked them were a group of extremists within the clan.

“They’re the Yiga clan,” Zelda had pointed out when Urbosa first proposed her theory. “Their entire organisation is a group of extremists.”

Urbosa scowled in response, her strange, red-purple hair shining in the flickering light of the fire. “Yes, but you understand what I mean. A subfaction of dissenters who, against the wishes of the whole, rashly decided to attack us without support,” She smiled grimly. “And who subsequently paid the price for their disobedience.

Now, another day later, the company struggled across the final stretch of their journey to reach the rapidly nearing lights of the bazaar. Mipha’s leg muscles screamed in protest against the unfairly harsh demands being placed upon them, but nothing could quench the refreshing thought that rest may only be a few minutes away.

Eventually, exhausted and covered in sand, the company crossed the threshold of the Bazaar, and staggered over to a set of chairs arranged around yet another campfire. There was silence for a few seconds as the company caught their breath, and Mipha, laying her Trident on the floor next to her, was given time to marvel at her surroundings, which were really quite beautiful in stark comparison to the barren desert around it. Palm trees dotted the area, providing dappled shade across the hot sand, and a scattering of buildings and tents ringed them. She took interest in the oasis that lay in the centre of the Bazaar - it had been several days since she had immersed herself in water, and, especially coming from a long trek across the dry desert, some moisture on her scales would be welcome.

But, of course, she was not to stay behind at the Bazaar, she reminded herself with a fresh wave of sadness. She, along with Urbosa and Zelda and Daruk, would be starting their next journey to Gerudo Town very soon. They would go on. Leaving Link behind…

Mipha’s predictions last night had proven completely accurate. Instead of retiring for the night with the other champions, Link and Urbosa had remained awake and on the alert, taking it in turns to alternatively sleep and keep watch. She had, while it was Link’s turn on watch, snuck out in foolish hope, but that hope had been quickly quelled when Link, upon catching sight of her, had sent her off with a warning look. As she had suspected, he was unwilling to take his attention away from his duty, lest an assassin managed to make it past his defences. She had briefly toyed with the idea of trying to convince him that she, too, could keep watch, but had quickly realised that it would be of no use if she couldn’t talk with him while she did so.

So, the night had come and gone, and with it Mipha’s last chance to connect with Link for this trip. It was even more painful knowing that there had been no attack to remain vigilant against – that Link, could, in fact, have afforded to be distracted. But, of course, there was no way for any of them to know that at the time. And so, she had mourned. It wasn’t over – not in the long run. But, for this trip, this was the end. The finish. There would be no more chances.

Eventually, Zelda spoke up, as Mipha knew she would. She didn’t sound anywhere near as tired as Mipha, which led Mipha to infer that she had made this trip several times before.

“Champions,” she began, as she always did when addressing the group at large, “at this point, some of us will make the journey onwards towards Gerudo Town, to collect the Thunder Helm. Unfortunately, some of us will be unable to make that trip. Due to the regulations surrounding gender segregation in Gerudo Town, Revali and… Link will have to stay behind.”

There was a general chorus of acknowledgement from the champions. Zelda nodded, before suddenly turning toward Mipha, and asking her an unexpected question.

“Mipha, do you have to stay behind too?” she requested gently, causing Mipha’s head to suddenly snap up. She had, incidentally, been praying fervently for some last-minute excuse to stay behind at the Bazaar, and wasn’t entirely sure that she had heard Zelda’s last question correctly. Surely, the princess hadn’t just offered Mipha another chance out of the blue like this. She must have misheard her.

“I’m sorry, princess, could you please repeat that?” she asked in an embarrassed fashion. Zelda frowned slightly in response.

“I asked if you would require more time to attend to Revali,” she elaborated, gesturing towards the Rito in question. “If you do, I’m afraid that you’ll have to stay behind as well. would hope that his wing would be fully mended by now, but if there’s more to do…” She left the phrase hanging.

Revali’s wing was, in fact, fully mended - Mipha had taken as much time out of her day as she could attending to it and, as such, the once-splintered bone had now been fully repaired. She was about to reply to that effect before her brain suddenly caught up to her mouth, and she immediately swallowed her half-formed words as the full implications of what Zelda was offering struck her.

Bare moments before, she had been lamenting her loss. Lamenting that fact that she had come so close, and yet so far. Lamenting that she would not be able to see Link again on this trip; that she would have to lay her hope to rest this trip. And yet here was this opportunity that she had thought dead – and ironclad excuse to stay behind, one which no eyebrows would be raised at. She had thought her hope truly extinguished for this trip, but now it flared back into life, burning brightly against her heart and filling her with joy. She had thought that her tale had ended. But it hadn’t. She could make things right. She could bring Link out of his worry and despair and back into the vibrant young man she had once known. And she could ask him the question that had been plaguing her for so long now; the question that she hoped so desperately that she knew the answer to.

It took Mipha a second to realise that, lost in the thrill of ecstasy, she had left her mouth hanging open. She hastily closed her it and blushed slightly at her mistake, coughing into her hand to try and regain composure, still feeling elated that her tale was not yet over. That her prayer had been answered.

“Y-yes,” she eventually announced, her heart rate still rather elevated in her excitement. She hoped that it didn’t show. “I… unfortunately, I will have to remain behind, for- for Revali. I’m afraid the healing of his wing is taking longer than I anticipated.”

Revali’s brow furrowed, and he scowled. No doubt he had (correctly) assumed that his wing was fully repaired. “Princess, I assure you, I am confident that my wing is completely healed. There is no need for this-“

“I am sorry, Revali, I truly am,” Mipha cut him off, “but I really do need to work on it for just a bit longer. I… cannot risk you damaging it more in my absence.”

Zelda looked vaguely disappointed, though thankfully hadn’t seemed to have picked up on Mipha’s sudden new state of elation. Most likely she was as inexperienced in these matters as Mipha herself was. Mipha determinedly avoided glancing in Urbosa’s direction, sure that her expression would be, in stark contrast, one of far too much understanding. She did, however send a glance over at Link. Was it just her imagination, or had there been a subtle tightening around his eyes? When she looked again, it was gone, and his face was once again covered by a mask of nonemotion.

But now she had another opportunity to take that mask off.

“Very well,” Zelda said, “if that’s is the case, we may as well get moving. Gerudo Town is not getting any closer in our absence,” She began to stand up, then paused halfway through. “That is, if there’s no objections, of course.”

Daruk, with an ominous creak from the chair he had been sitting on, stood, and stretched hugely. “Nah, tiny princess. Nothin’ from me!”

“I agree,” Urbosa said, standing up herself. The rest of the company followed suit; even if they weren’t going anywhere, it seemed prudent to stand. “The sooner we get going, the sooner we’ll be back. Well, actually, no, because we’ll be leaving at the same time tomorrow regardless, but the sentiment remains,” She glanced at Mipha, and Mipha was relieved to see that her eyes held no sense of hidden humour. “You’re sure you can handle everything at this end? Accommodation, food, dealing with the bird?”

Revali growled, shooting a vicious glare at Urbosa. “ _Dealing with the bird?_ ”

Mipha smiled. “Yes, thank you, Lady Urbosa, I’ll be fine." She certainly hoped so, anyway.

“Good,” Urbosa replied, before turning to Zelda and asking, “So, we’re off?”

“We’re off,” Zelda confirmed, already turning towards the distant, hazy image in the distance that was Gerudo Town. “Mipha, Revali, we’ll be back relatively early tomorrow morning, so make sure you’re up in time. We’ll have another long walk ahead of us to get to Vah Naboris before sundown tomorrow. Urbosa, Daruk?”

With Daruk’s grunt and Urbosa’s sly smile in response, she began making her way towards the far-off township. Urbosa and Daruk formed a loose triangle formation behind her, while the three champions who remained behind stayed where they were, silently watching them leave. Their retreating backs were several dozen yards ahead before, as if struck by a sudden impulse, Urbosa turned back around to face the Bazaar.

“Make sure you two don’t get into any trouble while we’re away!” she called, her voice echoing distantly, before turning back around, leaving Mipha to wonder exactly which two she meant. There were, she reflected, three options, and they were all equally applicable.

. . .  
  


A few hours later, as the sun was just beginning to make its leisurely way behind the flat horizon line, Mipha sat near to the now-roaring campfire next to Revali, her hands illuminated with a soft blue light which danced around the dimly-lit bazaar and reflected off the still waters of the oasis as she applied gentle pressure to his wing, healing it. Or, rather, she would be, if there had been anything left to heal.

When the rest of the champions had left, events had moved remarkably slowly. Mipha had negotiated the price of rooms for the night with the Gerudo at the nearby hotel, before depositing her meagre collection of belongings in her room and coming out to find that Link had already retreated into his own. She had remained outside his door for a few minutes, waiting for him to finish whatever business he was doing in there and come out, but had given up after it became clear that he wasn’t coming out any time soon. Since then, she had waited patiently for him to make his appearance, but to no avail. She wasn’t particularly concerned, however; only determined. Unlike the second night, Mipha was determined enough to confront him in his room if need be. In all honesty, it might be better in there – it was certainly more private, at least.

But for now she sat, finally tending to Revali’s wing, summoning the power of Mipha’s Grace and listening as the murmuring of conversation from the various residents of the Bazaar – mostly Gerudo merchants who had tried to sell Mipha their wares, ranging from fruit to arrows to blankets – slowly died down as everyone began to retire for the night.

Eventually, when she decided that she had been pretending to heal Revali’s wing for long enough, Mipha tentatively drew away her hands. The blue light gave one final flare and then died, and Revali, who had been absentmindedly staring off over the desert, glanced back in her direction, roughly twisting his wing out of her grip.

“So, it’s done?” he asked shortly. “May I finally ‘exercise’ my own wing?” He sounded rather bad tempered, though there was almost a longing anticipation in his voice at the prospect of using it once again.

“Yes,” Mipha confirmed, “it is done. I would, however, recommend that you do not try anything complicated with it for a few days. Please come see me if you think that there is anything wrong.”

“I most seriously hope there will not be,” Revali muttered, examining his wing in the warm light of the campfire. There was a brief hesitation, before, his voice noticeably quieter, he murmured, “Thank you, princess.”

“You’re… welcome, Master Revali,” Mipha said softly, matching his formal tone.

Revali grunted, and, having finished inspecting the condition of his wing, stood up and stretched, before performing circling movements with his shoulder, as if checking for manoeuvrability. Apparently satisfied, he turned to go.

“I’ll be off to bed, then,” he announced, turning a single yellow eye in Mipha’s direction. “Try not to make too much noise with whatever buffoonery you and your boyfriend get up to nowadays.”

Mipha felt the temperature of her face rising once again. “B-buffoonery?” she spluttered, “I… that’s a very… how did you know?”

The question leapt to her lips as she searched for a coherent response - she immediately turned a brighter shade of red as it did. Revali turned his entire body back towards Mipha and tutted softly as if disappointed in her lack of experience in this situation, what passed for a smile in his species settling firmly across his beak.

“Are you serious, princess?” he asked, his voice once again condescending. “With all the looks you’ve been throwing at him? The ridiculous way you’ve been acting whenever we mention him? With all due respect, I believe the proper query in this situation would be ‘how does everyone else not know?’ Or, better yet, ‘how does _he_ not know?’”

He threw one last amused glance in Mipha’s direction, clearly proud at finally being the one coming out on top in these verbal attacks of his, and, turning away, he began walking towards the hotel. Before he could walk more than a few steps, however, Mipha blurted out a question; a private concern that had been lurking in the recesses of her mind ever since yesterday, when Revali had first spoken to her of Link.

“Are you going to tell him!?”

Revali stopped suddenly, and, even with his back turned, Mipha could almost _hear_ him smirking. “Lady Mipha, I would not dream of speaking to that worthless excuse for a knight normally, much less with such a complicated topic at the forefront of our conversation. It’s far too much hassle attempting to coerce anything that remotely resembled even a modicum of intelligence or recognition out of him, or even get him to speak at all, for that matter. Honestly, I can’t imagine what you see in that dumb little…”

He trailed off, before giving a loud snort of derision. “All I can say is good luck attempting to get _him_ to open up. I’m afraid your feelings may all turn out to be for nothing.”

Mipha stared after his retreating figure, torn between relief at the fact that he wasn’t going to blunder into this sensitive game of hers, and anger at the way he had referred to Link. Thankful for her service or not, he was still inherently arrogant and emotionally immature, and Mipha wasn’t sure she would ever be able to forgive him for that. It certainly didn’t help that she had no idea why he disliked Link so much. What on earth had Link done to him? He had never so much as even spoken to him – what on earth could Revali hate him for?

Eventually, Revali slipped inside the hotel and was gone. Mipha continued to stare at the hotel for a minute, lost in thought, before coming to her senses. Whatever issues Revali may have, they were not the cause of her concern. Link’s problems, on the other hand, were of far more importance to her, and she intended to address them. She had been given this chance to make things right by the gracious hand of Hylia. She was not going to throw it away, not under any circumstances.

She made a sharp motion, meaning to follow Revali to the hotel - and, by extension, Link - but stopped short as doubt filled her mind. Though she had claimed that she was prepared to confront him in his room, it wasn’t exactly what she wanted. It might give the wrong impression if she barged into his room before he was ready (she wasn’t sure what that impression would be, but she was certain it would be the wrong one). And, really, it was still rather early; plenty of time for Link to come out on his own, and combined with having to deal with Revali’s possible taunts and annoying, condescending looks, going into that hotel right now seemed like a very unattractive prospect. But still, she had just vowed that she would not throw away this chance. And if it would be awkward barging into Link’s room and giving the wrong impression now, it would be even more awkward to wait for hours, find that Link was not, in fact, going to come out, and to barge into his room much, much later to find him asleep.

Mipha eventually settled for a compromise. She would first wash the solution off her, which, while not strictly necessary, as is would evaporate on its own, would both relax and refresh her and give Revali enough time to get to sleep without doing the same for Link (who didn’t do early bedtimes – a habit that he displayed as a child and had been reinforced by his time in the military). With luck, this would give her the perfect opportunity to confront Link, and ask him the question she had so wanted to since their previous conversation. The question that had consumed her for nearly two days now. And, hopefully, it would work. Hopefully, he would feel the same…

Her mind made up, she resolutely turned and, instead of following Revali into the hotel, she began making her way towards the oasis. She had, after all, desired immersion in its crystal-clear waters earlier in the day - it had been one of the first things she had noticed about the Bazaar. The experience would do her good, and would hopefully offer ample time for Link to make his way back outside to the campfire, where she could intercept him. Hopefully, it would also leave her refreshed, both physically and mentally, and would put her in the right place of mind for Link.

Mipha was alone at the Oasis as she slipped into the luxurious folds of the still water. She unwillingly gasped, her body reacting to the pleasant sensation of the cool liquid lapping softly over her bare legs - it was a sensation that, as a Zora, she naturally desired, and had been denied for so long during this trip. Lifting fumbling hands to her head, she took off her jewellery, undid her Champion's sash, layed them carefully by the shore, and waded into the waiting water. The sheer sensation of the water enveloping her was giddying. Denied the pleasure for such a long time, Mipha became temporarily lost in the feeling of freedom that accompanied submersion in freshwater, performing several laps as she marvelled at the power she felt gliding purposefully through the still liquid. Zora were born for this, and she revelled in that knowledge as she swiftly and purposefully traced the circumference of the oasis

Eventually, the giddy, overwhelming feeling subsided into a dull sense of calm. Her sudden rush of energy had been drained as quickly as it had arrived, and she lay floating silently on her back, feeling serene and at peace. The simple sensation of the water lapping softly against her scales was one of joy that she had never equated to anything else. Very few things had given her as much happiness as the freedom of swimming.

Until she had fallen for Link. And since then, nothing had compared to him.

Conscious of the time she had spent floating, and urged into action by that last line that resonated throughout her head like the ringing of a bell, Mipha decided that it was time for her to get up. Comforting though the water may be, the happiness she received from it was nowhere near as much as the happiness she would receive from talking to Link, hearing him speak, open up and (hopefully) confessing his feelings to her. Nothing compared to the knowledge that she had done something for him. That she had loved him. She began to come out of her immobile state; flipping herself upright and feeling her webbed feet squelch against the sandy floor of the oasis. She made a small motion, intending to make her way up to the hotel, but before she could move more than a few inches she came to a very sudden stop, almost tripping over as she caught sight of something that caused her breath to suddenly catch in her chest.

Link was sitting by the edge of the oasis, his legs drawn up protectively over his chest as he stared blankly at the water, which was slowly lapping over the soles of his shoes. He looked quite unaware of Mipha’s existence, and simply sat, his face expressionless if not for the slight tightness that was visible around his eyes and mouth even at this distance. Mipha’s stomach performed a sharp lurch as her heart once again jumped up to a tempo traditionally reserved for songs in _vivace_. In a single stroke, all her expectations of what tonight would be like had just been upended. She had hoped, of course, that Link would come out, but she never expected him to make such a move towards her; she had simply expected him to return to the fire. Could it be…?

“Link,” she asked in bewilderment, her voice noticeably several steps higher than it would usually be. “What- is there- why are you…?”

She trailed off, finding no appropriate way to phrase the question. There was a long pause, during which Link did not give any indication that she had spoken, and Mipha’s nervousness grew exponentially larger in response. Yes, he had defied all her expectations, and, yes, that fact filled her with hope, but it also left her completely in the dark about his intentions at doing such a thing.

“I just wanted to see where you were,” Link responded eventually, his voice studiously neutral, his facial expression still conveying no emotion. He made a move as if to stand up. ”If you… don’t wish me to be here, I can leave.”

“Who said I don’t want you to be here?” Mipha asked, before immediately clasping a hand over her mouth as she belatedly realised just how obvious those words had been. Was that honestly the best choice, intruding into such a delicate situation between her and Link? Did it give the game away? Mipha found herself almost fearfully watching Link’s face and she waited tensely to see how he would respond.

Link’s face was blank; it betrayed nothing of what any of this meant to him. “I had… simply assumed that you would prefer to be alone.”

“Well, I-” Mipha said, before her voice broke from tension and she was forced to start again, stalling for time as she searched frantically for a way to continue. She needed to play this carefully until she could be confident what his own motivations were. “I would not mind if you were to stay. If you- if you were to… uh, to come in.”

She anxiously awaited Link’s reply, hoping fervently that she hadn’t overstepped her boundaries again. Link hesitated, before asking quietly, “Would it make you happy?”

“I-” Mipha began, before pulling up sharply as she realised just how crucial to the dynamic of the entire night her answer would be. Would it make her happy? There had never been a question she would more firmly answer ‘yes’ to in her life, yet if she did answer with yes, would it be too soon? Would it give it away? Of course, she wanted to get a feel for where Link was in all this, and ‘yes’ was the best way to do so, but she couldn’t push too hard. If he did not reciprocate, revealing too much may become very awkward.

And yet, as she looked at it more closely, she realised that there really was only one correct answer to that question Only one answer if she was to use this chance she had been given, if she was to try and help him drag himself out of the well or worry he had so obviously fallen into. _Not going to throw it away…_

“Yes,” she whispered, “very much so.”

There was a very pregnant pause as Mipha stared at Link, and Link stared into the water, determinedly avoiding Mipha’s gaze. The silence between them stretched out, but Mipha dared not break it; it was already such a fragile situation between them, and she was highly uncertain of her place in it. Everything about it was so out of her depth, and a single wrong word from Mipha could wreck it all. She was afraid it already had. So, she stood there, waiting with eyes that were wide with apprehension, as she waited for Link to make the next move.

Eventually, just as Mipha was beginning to panic that she had said something catastrophically wrong, Link began to move; first reaching down to grasp the edges of his newly-repaired Champions Tunic before slowly pulling it up over his head. Mipha, realising what he was doing, hastily turned away from the almost imperceptible _thud_ of the fabric hitting the hard sand, feeling her heart pick back up after its short hiatus. This was the second time in the past few days that Link had exposed his chest in front of her. Of course, it meant absolutely nothing – but she couldn’t quite convince her excited heart of that. It's just that he did look so _good_ without it on.

There was a soft splash from behind her, and she turned around to find that (mercifully) Link had quickly submerged his upper body in the calm waters surrounding him, allowing Mipha to quench her sudden hormonal uprising and force down the feelings and fantasies that it had given birth to. He still didn’t take any notice of Mipha, and simply sat there floating, doing much the same as he had been doing on land. Taking his lead, Mipha followed suit, and slowly resumed her floating.

The tension between the two of them was almost palpable; neither was willing to break past the next barrier of conversation, and so they simply sat there in silence. Mipha hoped fervently that Link would be the one to initiate the connection, just as he had when he came up to her moments earlier, but, as the exaggerated seconds stretched into painstakingly long minutes, it became clear that it wasn’t going to happen. She was very much aware of this opportunity she had been offered, and she wasn’t going to throw away this last chance of hers. Not now that she had promised herself that she would make the most of it. So, she drew a deep breath and let it out slowly to calm her taunt nerves, before preparing to ask the question that she hoped would ultimately reveal where he stood in their relationship – the question of _why?_

“Link?”

There was a short silence. Mipha flipped back upright to stare at Link, who had frozen and suddenly seemed rather tense. This worried Mipha, but it wasn’t enough to make her back down. _Not going to throw it away…_

“Yes?” Link said eventually; his voice carefully controlled in a fashion that gave away no indication of his feelings. He seemed to be very good at performing in that tone now. But he never used to be, Mipha remembered with a rush of sudden sadness; his voice always used to proclaim joy in every syllable, as if he was constantly in awe at the pure wonder of the world around him. That voice appeared to have died, alongside the rest of the Link from that time.

Mipha’s voice cracked slightly at this memory. It was her duty to bring that Link back to life. “The night before, you asked me if I missed the old days. The ones where we didn’t… we didn’t have any worries, or responsibilities. I said I did. And you… you said you did in turn”

Link was silent for a second, before replying with a soft, “I did.” It was simply an acknowledgement of fact, nothing more.

“Why- why do you miss those days?”

“Why?” Link echoed, his voice subtly breaking as he did so. “It’s like I said - I didn’t have anything to worry about, didn’t have any duty that came first, didn’t have anyone…” his voice died, and he moistened his dry lips with his tongue before finishing quietly, “...relying on me.”

Mipha was quiet for a second, then asked timidly, “What… changed?”

Link hesitated, his eyes tightening further and his arm making a short, involuntary twitch beneath the water. The was a rather tense pause, before Link turned away from Mipha and replied in a voice so soft that it was barely audible - even though it had only the near-silent whipping of the wind and the quiet lapping of the water against their bodies to compete with.

“Oh, Mipha. Since then, everything has changed.”

With his back turned, Mipha was unable to gauge his face as he made his proclamation, but she was willing to bet that it had briefly collapsed in misery; for what other reason did he have to turn his face? His answer did not satisfy the desire for knowledge that burned bright in Mipha’s heart; if anything, it simply made it burn brighter. He claimed that ‘everything had changed. He had claimed ‘everything’ – but what was everything? In other words, what meant everything to him?

_Please, let him be the same…_

If - as she hoped - the reason for change in Link had something to do with her, then she was the only one that could help him. This was her last night, and if anything was going to happen, it had become clear that she was the only one to do it. She had to swallow her pride and private fears, and ask the more direct question. It was her duty to him; what drove her, what gave her purpose. She needed to know this if she was to bring back the Link that she had known – so full of life and laughter and care for all around. No matter how awkward it may turn out to be, she needed to do this. For his sake. Feeling her nerves reach a climax even as she did so, Mipha sidled up beside Link, who had once again resumed quietly sitting in the shallow water, as if unwilling to tempt himself by coming out further. As she sat next to him on the waterlogged sand, he gave a short start, and made a motion as if to quickly move away, but stopped before he could complete it. Mipha was uncertain whether this was a good or bad sign, but she had committed to this path, and so she sat, attempting to dredge up the courage to say what she had to say.

“Link…” she requested. Link made no reply, but, then again, she hadn’t expected him to. “May I ask you another question?”

Link hesitated, before replying with, “Of course.” His face, Mipha suddenly noticed with a thrill of anxiety, was displaying an emotion remarkably close to apprehension. No, not apprehension; fear.

No pulling back now, though. “May I ask… may I ask what you missed most about the old days?”

There. She had said it. It didn’t get much more obvious than that. Link was still for a good dozen seconds, his gaze suddenly frozen, his musculature suddenly tense. Mipha watched as she felt her rapid heartrate reach a crescendo, pounding against her chest like some great drum; she was surprised that Link could not hear it from there, it felt like it was about to burst right out of her as it yearned desperately, hoping that he was going to confirm it, that he was going to admit that he, too, felt the same, that what meant everything to her was…

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of weighing up his options, Link said, in a completely nonchalant voice, with no indication that he found the question even remotely important – that he had any idea that it was, in fact, the most important question that Mipha had ever asked him, “I’m not sure. Playing and swimming with Sidon was always fun.”

Mipha felt her heart thud to a halt in her chest; her hopes plummeting into oblivion. So, it wasn’t her. What he missed most wasn’t her. It was simply the lack of responsibility that had been bestowed upon him, the carefree nature of those days. She gave a soft, “Oh.” and turned away from Link, feeling her eyes begin to itch as tears crawled up in them, threatening to spill out like the heartache that wrenched her like a gigantic hand, squeezing until it was almost painful; for it _was_ painful. It was painful to know that Link did not fully reciprocate, that she was not, as she perhaps foolishly hoped, at the forefront of his mind, like he was hers. She had gone into this trip so confident, so full of hope that he reciprocated her feelings. That they had a future together. That they could make this work. That he loved her. And now, her hopes had been shattered. The fantasy of true love she had perhaps foolishly believed in had been torn down. She could not save him. She was not his everything. As he was hers.

 _Still_ , Mipha attempted desperately to reassure her overwhelming despair, _not all is yet lost_. There was still hope; it was possible Link did miss her, and simply did not do so to the same degree that she did. Perhaps, if she ever had another chance on another trip, then she may be able to grow those emotions into-

“What is it?” came Link’s question, breaking violently into her train of thought and bringing it crashing to a very sudden halt. She jerked her heart around to face him; he was still not looking at her.

“W-what?” she asked, feeling disoriented and confused. Her hopes in pieces around her, his question had caught her completely off guard.

Link’s expression was in shadow, but there was something behind it, set in the hard lines of his face. Some emotion – some sudden realisation, some determination to continue – that Mipha could not name. “You said ‘oh’. Was there something wrong with what I said?”

Mipha’s pulse began to race again, picking right back up where it had left off just moments before. Why did she have to do that? Now that her hope had been compromised, it was of tantamount importance that Link did not know of her own feelings (or so she told herself). In a flurry of panic and heightened emotions, she feverishly searched for a response.

“N-no!” she hastened to assure him, “no, it’s just I… I thought that-”

She knew her mistake as soon as she had uttered it, in desperation, she followed up with, “I mean-” but her voice was quickly cut off by Link’s next question, seizing onto the information she had accidentally let slip, “What answer were you expecting?”

Extremely flustered would have been putting it mildly. Mipha’s heart was completely out of control and her cheeks aflame as she cried, “no-nothing! I mean, I thought-”

“What?” Link urged. His face was still inscrutable, but there was a certain indescribable driving force behind his words; a desire to know more against his better judgement. “What did you think - what were you expecting my answer to be?”

“I didn’t- I just- no, it’s not that-”

“Mipha, what did you want me to say?”

“I wanted- I didn’t want you to say what you- I wanted to be...”

Mipha’s voice died as she completely lost any sense of how she was to salvage this disastrous conversation. There was silence for a few seconds, punctuated only by the frantic breaths from Mipha’s mouth and the (though she could have just been imagining it) almost audible thumping of her heart. She had no idea how on Hyrule what she was to do now. Her plans for this evening, so meticulously crafted, now lay in ruins around her. Her desire to bring back the old Link had been snuffed out with a vengeance. Her hope that he loved her as she loved him shattered, falling endlessly through a spiral of despair. Eventually, though he mercifully let it hang for several seconds, Link’s soft voice broke the silence.

“Mipha,” he said quietly, his voice low and quiet. “Are _you_ alright?”

Mipha stood up shakily, feeling her legs wobble beneath her as she did so, Link did not look up at her, but his vision remained frozen, directed at the dark, still water, as if he, too, had learned rather more than what he had bargained for when he came down to sit near Mipha at the water edge. Finally, after an awkward pause where Mipha tried several times to moisten her suddenly dry lips, she stammered, “I… I think I’ll go to bed now.” and hastened away without looking back, moving as fast as she could without being obvious about it - entirely pointless, considering how obvious she had just been - her face burning as bright a crimson as the rest of her body.

Once she was confident that she was far away enough from the oasis, she chanced a glance over her shoulder, and, upon seeing no Link in pursuit, broke into a run, almost tripping over her own feet in the loose sand as she staggered towards the hotel. As she ran, she cursed how lax she had been with her words, and hoped fervently that Link hadn’t picked up on her true meaning. Eventually, she stumbled up to the door of her temporary residence, opened it and rushed inside, making a dash for her room where she could finally sleep and have some respite from the disaster that the night had turned out to be. The door closed behind her with a soft _click_ , the temporary beam of light it had emitted as it was open disappearing like a candle being snuffed out by a sudden breath of wind.

Link had not made any move to stop Mipha as she made her rather unceremonious departure; simply staring into the water with blank and vacant eyes, lost deep in thought. Eventually, when the sun had truly been swallowed by the distant horizon line and the Bazaar was practically pitch-black, he slowly got up, dressed, and, with the air of one more preoccupied with his thoughts than where he was actually walking, made his own way back to the hotel.  
  


. . .

Many hours later that night, Link lay restlessly in his hotel bed, unable to sleep, thoughts chasing each other wildly around his head like a dog relentlessly chasing its own tail. He was sure of Mipha’s feelings for him now - their little misadventure had proved that far past the point of disbelief - and all this revelation did was raise a plethora of problems surrounding his own, confusing feelings. He was far from certain where he stood in this relationship; where he was, where he was going, and where he wanted to go, his mind a cauldron of simmering thoughts and ideas, each one being replaced almost as soon as it emerged.

He thought he had reached a conclusion. He had been adamant. But now, with Mipha’s own feelings laid bare, he had started to doubt that. He had started to foolishly hope. He needed to convince himself. And he needed to convince her.

One thing was certain, however. Time was running short. However he chose to do it, he had to do it soon; he could not allow Mipha to run off with notions of a relationship that would never come, it would do her far more damage in the long run. And if there was one thing he was certain of, it’s that he did care for her - far more than he did for that of others. But to what extent? How far? How was he to proceed? How much was he willing to sacrifice? And, oh Hylia, why does everything have to be so _confusing_?

Eventually, Link fell into a restless sleep, his mind racing on through his dreams, and still very far from made up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact – it takes about half an iota of emotional intelligence to realise that Link wasn’t exactly being 100% truthful in what he said to Mipha. Unfortunately, Mipha doesn’t appear to have half an iota of emotional intelligence, or, more importantly, any experience in these matters. So, she’s just going to accept what he said as truth - for now, at least. I would like to point this emotional unintelligence to a lack of social exposure from being a princess or some other proper reason like that, but, really, the actual reason is so much simpler than that. It’s because Mipha is so sweet and innocent this way, and that’s how I’d like her to stay.
> 
> If you, too, don’t have half an iota of emotional intelligence - though I’m sure you do - then, well, that’s what the last paragraph was for. Incidentally, one of my favourite parts of this story (I didn’t like the rest of the chapter as much); the sudden change in perspective only happens once, and thus it really stands out. I encourage you, once (if you bother) you’ve finished the story, come back and read this part again. See if it makes any more sense to you. Especially that second paragraph.
> 
> Unfortunately, you’ll have to wait until Chapter 7 to find out how this unfolds. The next chapter is going to be all about that revelation that Zelda was so eager to show them at the start; they’re making this trip for a reason, remember? I didn’t. I just shoved a reason in there to give them an excuse for an adventure. Revali would be furious.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed how this one worked out. I hope you’ll enjoy how it all fits together. I’m glad you’ve stuck around for so long. Now, onto this little secret of Zelda’s that she’s so desperate to reveal.


	6. Revelation

The next morning, late enough so that the sweltering temperature broadcast by the desert sun was already in full bloom, Mipha stood on a small crest on the outskirts of Kara Kara Bazaar, the sand beneath her feet as unstable and uncomfortable as always. She was standing next to Revali, and both were watching the approach of the distant figures of Zelda, Urbosa and Daruk, who were making their way to the Bazaar back from their excursion to Gerudo Town.

Said approach was, at least in Mipha’s opinion, very, very slow. Her decision to remain behind at the oasis did not factor in the solution that she so needed to survive in the moisture-devoid environment of the desert, and while she was hardly near the point where she was in any physical danger, the scales on her back felt like they were wilting. It would be preferable for the solution to be applied sooner rather than later, however, or her body would _really_ start to feel the effects of the lack of moisture. She had tried asking Revali to apply the solution himself, but it appeared that he had gotten over his bout of thankfulness from last night and flatly refused to do so. She had spent a good half hour attempting in numerous ways to reach around to her back, but it was no use - the Zora anatomy was simply not built for it. As for asking Link…

Mipha’s face still burned with embarrassment whenever she thought of their disastrous conversation that previous night. She had one chance to try and get Link to open up, and, not only were all her hopes apparently for nothing, she had also come so close to revealing her own feelings that the whole affair could be described as nothing short of a complete fiasco. In fact, the memory was so fresh in her mind that she had been keeping a healthy difference from Link the whole morning, attempting to stare in any direction but his, much like he had been doing to her. Separated from both her and Revali, he looked quite the rejected figure.

Even though she kept trying to console herself that all was not yet lost, that there would be other opportunities, that Link may not yet be beyond reach, his proclamation last night – _I’m not sure, playing and swimming with Sidon was always fun_ \- certainly put her out of the centre stage. The fact that it was not her but the simple joys of life that kept him entranced was a crushing blow to her hopes, and she scolded herself for not seeing it before. She had been blinded by love and dreams, and now she was paying the embarrassing price for it. All in all, Mipha was feeling rather forlorn as she waited for the arrival of the Kara Kara-bound travellers, with nothing on her mind but regret and a strong desire for this trip to be over.

And yet, despite trying not to, she still felt a vague tugging of curiosity whenever she unwittingly glanced over at the Hylian Knight (which, despite her best efforts, happened with some frequency). His face, once completely blank, was now twisted slightly, as if he was pondering something; and not something that he particularly enjoying pondering, either. He did not seem remotely perturbed by his abandonment on behalf of the rest of the champions, but simply stood, staring out in the direction of the approaching party, his eyes unfocused, and his lips slightly pursed. All in all, he looked as though he had found last night just as troubling as Mipha had. Perhaps even more.

She roughly attempted to shun these thoughts whenever they began to intrude into her mind. An over excess of curiosity was what got her into this situation in the first place. And yet, she couldn’t help wondering why exactly he was acting in this way. He had no reason to. Last night had meant little to him. Hadn’t it?

Mipha wrenched her thoughts away from Link and their tangled relationship and attempted, with limited success, to refocus on the far-closer-than-they-were-before champions. She noticed that Urbosa was holding a large, lustrous object in her hands. Its reflection was so dazzling in the glare that she had to squint to focus on it properly. It seemed to be a very large helmet, adorned with what appeared to be emeralds and rubies - or, she reflected, more likely jade and garnets, considering their environment, though, really, they could be anything. This had to be fabled Thunder Helm that Urbosa had fetched from Gerudo Town; though, in all honesty, Mipha hadn’t expected it to be _quite_ that large.

As they neared, Daruk waved a massive hand in their direction. Though the distance between them was still great, his booming voice carried like the wind across the surface of the ocean; “Hey! Brother! We retrieved the Thunder Helm!”

Link, predictably, didn’t respond. Though she couldn’t see it, Mipha could imagine Urbosa rolling her eyes in response to his boisterous tone. “I was about to tell them that, Goron!” she exclaimed in mock annoyance.

Daruk wheeled around to face her. “Well, I was goin’ to say it first!”

“How do you know which one of us had that thought first?” Urbosa asked, sounding utterly bemused, though laced with a semblance of humour at the progressing conversation. Mipha could just make out a small smile dancing across Zelda’s face as she watched the debate out of the corner of her eye.

“Well, that’s obvious!” Daruk said, sounding amazed that Urbosa couldn’t reach the correct conclusion without his big hand drawing it out for her. “I know that I was goin’ to say it first because I said it first, of course!” His voice had a note of finality in it, as if he had just delivered a very convincing argument indeed.

Urbosa opened her mouth to make a rebuttal, but before she could utter more than a single syllable, Revali interrupted her. His voice was scathing.

“I don’t think it even remotely matters who conceived this… this piece of tomfoolery first!” he snapped, sounding frustrated at the stupidity of his comrades. There was a definite angry glint in his eyes as he glared at Urbosa, who looked completely unperturbed by his outburst. He ruffled his feathers in an irritated manner and continued with, “It is perfectly obvious that you’ve retrieved the Thunder Helm, so would you please stow the childish manner and start acting like champions!”

“He’s right – we are on a bit of a schedule,” Zelda affirmed, taking a quick glance up at the sun as she did so. Their arrival had definitely been delayed from what she had promised yesterday, and Mipha could tell that the delay was bothering her. “Vah Naboris is another trek across the desert, and if we are to reach it before dark, we’ll have to leave soon. We’d better get ready,” She turned to Revali. “You have packed, Master Revali?”

Revali snorted. “Of course, we’ve packed. In stark construct to some, _I_ know how to show my position the respect it deserves; and that includes being properly organised for even a superfluous adventure such as this."

Zelda flinched, but managed to hold his gaze.

“Then, by all means, lead the way,” she said, gesturing back towards the hotel. Revali, with one last glare towards Urbosa, as if everything was somehow her fault, sauntered off in the direction of last night's accommodation. Behind it, the shadowy behemoth that was Vah Naboris was just visible, looming in an almost ominous manner in the distance. Daruk marched happily behind, humming merrily to himself, and Link, with an absentminded glance at Zelda (he was still looking troubled and thoughtful), followed suit. Zelda made to move as well, but Mipha hastily stepped forward to intercept her. Zelda paused, and looked down at her Zorana counterpart expectantly.

“Princess,” Mipha began, feeling that the formal address was most suitable for what she was asking, “I am most sorry to bother you, but…”

She held out her little ceramic bottle. Zelda’s eyes widened in sudden understanding.

“Oh! Your solution! I’m so sorry, princess, I had completely forgotten that you would need me for that, I- I hadn’t factored that into my plans, it was all rather sudden, but I suppose that’s no excuse,” Mipha assured her that no harm had been done as she stepped forward to take the jar. “Here, allow me-”

“It’s okay, I’ll do it,” cut in Urbosa suddenly, Both Mipha and Zelda turned, startled, as the Chief deftly plucked the tub out of Mipha’s hands. There was a funny glint in Urbosa’s eye as she looked at Mipha. The Zora princess’s stomach twisted uncomfortably as she suddenly realised that Urbosa wasn’t simply going to let the matter of what had happened while she was away get by her that easily. “You have work to do, my little bird. I can handle this myself.”

Zelda stared, her mouth hanging slightly open, staring nonplussed at the jar that Urbosa was clutching in her hands. “Lady Urbosa, I-”

“Zelda,” Urbosa interrupted, “you’re needed over there,” She gestured in the direction of the hotel, from where a heated discussion was floating towards them from the three figures gathered next to it. “You’re the leader. You need to organise the champions, who - let’s face it - aren’t going to organise themselves. They need you there, not here.”

Personally, Mipha thought that Urbosa was laying it on more than just a bit thick – the Champion’s Guild wouldn’t exactly collapse instantly without Zelda. The princess, however, appeared to take her words to heart. She hesitated for a second, then nodded resolutely.

“No, I- you’re right, Urbosa. It’s my duty to be in charge, and my responsibility to carry that duty out to the best of my ability,” She seemed to visibly draw herself up at her proclamation, as if emboldened by Urbosa’s words. “That is, if Mipha doesn’t mind?” she added, throwing a quick glance in Mipha’s direction.

“No, that will be fine. You are needed there.” Mipha assured her, though, in reality, she would prefer the princess to stay; she wasn’t particularly in the mood to talk about what Urbosa surely wanted to. As she had mentioned numerous times before, however, the Gerudo had a knack for rigging these traps; refusing the offer would simply cause unnecessary tension, and she hadn’t the time to think of an alternative solution (especially in her current state). Besides, it wasn’t like she was facing a hostile audience. Best to just tough it out.

Zelda nodded, and, with a small smile at both of them, she turned and began quickly walking in the direction of the rapidly intensifying debate, squaring her shoulders determinedly as she did so. Urbosa glanced at Mipha, a smile of her own forming as she studied her carefully.

“Shall we?” she invited, gesturing towards the shade near a nearby building , which was, Mipha noted, out of sight of the rest of the Bazaar. With no other options, Mipha nodded, and, with that sense of foreboding now on the rise, followed Urbosa into its cooling shadow. She mentally prepared herself for the onslaught that was to come. Urbosa might care for her and her relationship with Link, but she didn’t always know her own strength.

As Mipha slipped into the cool shade, she was surrounded by a feeling of relief across her scales and immediately wondered why she hadn’t done as such earlier. Possibly she thought it would have been offensive to move away from watching the approach of the champions; her brain hadn’t really been working at full capacity. Turning her back towards Urbosa, she stared off across the desert at the distant, hulking form of the area’s local Divine Beast and waited patiently for the interrogation. As she suspected, it didn’t take long. Moments after Mipha had registered the _pop_ of the cork being discharged from the hard ceramic that it had just bound shut, and felt the first relieving dollops of solution being spread generously across her parched scales, Urbosa spoke, her voice low, and holding a perfect blend of curiosity and concern.

“Okay, girl, spill. What happened?” she said. Mipha didn’t bother to play dumb – they both knew exactly what Urbosa meant. Instead, she gave a small sigh.

“What gave it away?” she asked, sounding weary. Really, there were any number of things that might have made it obvious, from Urbosa’s analysis of her behaviour since arriving back at the Bazaar all the way up to this ever-present flow of information she seemed to receive whenever something happened that remotely related Mipha and Link. Still, she wanted to hear exactly how Urbosa had done it.

In response, Urbosa gave a loud, short, and derisive snort. “Aside from the fact that you two were together, and something was bound to happen?” she questioned critically. “You’ve been giving Link distance like he’s a plague victim. You’ve been refusing to look anywhere near him and _he’s_ been acting like you’ve given him plenty to think about. What’d he do that you’re staying so far out of his way?”

There was a short silence, during which Urbosa continued to apply the comforting, moisture-trapping solution to Mipha’s back. Mipha wondered how exactly she was to phrase her answer. She stared absently at Vah Naboris as they tracked their slow path across the desert, as if hoping for sudden inspiration to strike her. It didn’t happen.

“I... we were talking last night,” she began, her voice breaking slightly with the recollection of the memory, “and I... accidently let slip more than I had intended.”

There was another pause. Mipha swore she heard Urbosa sharply draw in her breath. When she next spoke, her voice was soft, as if she was comforting a dying animal in its final moments. “Did he put you down?”

“N-no,” Mipha stammered. Why had Urbosa decided that Link’s next course of action would be to refuse her? Did she somehow know something she didn’t, and, if so, what did that mean? It didn’t help that the phrase ‘put down’ was a little too literal for Mipha’s tastes, either. “He... I mean, he probably didn’t understand what I really meant,” she said shakily, attempting to comfort herself more than reassure Urbosa, “I am... well, really, I’m probably just overreacting.”

She spent a moment wondering whether she should be joyful or sorry at Link’s lack of understanding. On one hand, it protected her from embarrassment, and prevented their relationship from going too far downhill; but, then again, it also hindered it from becoming anything more. After a few seconds of this her head and heart began to ache anew, and she quickly desisted.

Urbosa was quiet for a long while, and, though she couldn’t see it, Mipha could visualise the thoughtful expression across her face. Urbosa took her hands away from Mipha’s back, which was now fully covered in a fine layer of gel-like solution, and Mipha turned just in time to see her screwing the cork back upon the bottle. She handed the jar back to Mipha, and they stared at each other in silence for a long while, Mipha attempting to glean meaning from her inscrutable face. Without warning, Urbosa spoke, her words short and abrupt.

“Maybe he knows more than what you give him credit for.” she said simply, before turning and stalking off in the direction of the other champions without a backwards glance. Mipha stared after her retreating back in confusion.

 _Maybe he knows more than what you give him credit for_. What did that mean? Mipha sometimes thought that Urbosa had access to a source of information of which she knew not of, but it was more of an idle concept than a real suspicion; not to be taken seriously. Did she actually possess such a source? And if she did, what had it told her about Link? What did she know, or, at the very least, think she knew? Did Link really understand more than Mipha believed? Then why hadn't he said so!? Mipha’s curiosity, which she had tried to desperately to suppress during the morning, was now burning brighter in the wake of Urbosa’s comment. Still, there was nothing she was to do this trip; on that, she was certain. It seemed her questions would have to remain unanswered.

As she approached her fellows, she noticed Zelda’s rather harrowed expression, as if she had just performed a rather unpleasant task that she was none too eager to repeat – which, as Mipha glanced around and caught notice of Daruk’s confused look and Revali’s rather superior one, quite likely wasn’t far from the truth. Perhaps it was for the best that Zelda arrived to break it up instead of tending to Mipha, after all. She also noticed, with a flare in her curiosity, Link’s expression had evolved from the morning. Once thoughtful and troubled, it was now thoughtful, troubled, and ever so slightly agitated. Though Mipha tried to supress such curiosity ( _Now is not the time!_ ) she felt her mind slowly but surely consumed by Urbosa’s cryptic statement, and thoughts of Link. And, before she knew it, she found herself overwhelmed.

Mipha was able to surface from the torrent of thoughts that now flooded her mind long enough to see Zelda’s tired smile, to hear the now-familiar, “Well, champions, shall we get going?”, and to give a short nod in response as her legs automatically carried her forward towards the journey her mind was far away from.

. . .

They were about half a mile out from the gigantic camel that was Vah Naboris when the first bolt hit.

The sudden, loud fizzling sound of the lightning discharging against the hazy green barrier the Thunder Helm provided shocked Mipha right out of her train of thought, causing her to flinch hugely and shut her eyes tight against the sudden burst of light that assaulted them. Opening them timidly, she found that she wasn’t the only one who had reacted to the attack. Daruk had stumbled mid-step, Zelda looked to have flinched as well, and even Urbosa seemed startled. Revali had nearly fallen flat on his face, and was now picking himself up with an air of wounded pride. Yet Link didn’t look remotely perturbed by the sudden onslaught of sound and light. His forehead was creased in thought, and, aside from a short, almost vacant glance up at the barrier above them, he made no reaction. He looked troubled, reasonably agitated, and, to add to that, Mipha felt that he kept staring at her when her back was turned, only to look away as soon as she noticed.

She had earlier experienced a sudden resurgence in her curiosity surrounding Link; a curiosity which had overwhelmed her mind with worries, thoughts, and wild theories that chased each other around for what seemed like years before eventually dying out. This had not changed in the five and a half uneventful hours of trekking across the desert. In fact, it was only spurred on by Link’s progressively more agitated behaviour. Despite her earlier promise, she found her curiosity so great that she once again burned to confront him, to try and see whether, in fact, he knew more than he was letting on. Of course, she knew that, even if she broke her promise to attempt it, it wouldn’t be possible at Vah Naboris. Too many variables in the equation. And yet her desire to have her questions answered was so strong that she longed to do _something._

She had just settled on the compromise of cornering Urbosa – to try and wheedle some meaning of her cryptic comment – when the lightning struck.

Now, she cowered under the onslaught of noise and light from the crackling lightning, her earlier concerns well and truly driven out by this new, immediate threat. None of the Champions seemed to tolerate the final stretch to the beast nearly as much as they had the rest of the journey. Zelda’s eyes often flicked upwards nervously, Daruk looked constantly frightened and they all flinched whenever the lightning struck. It was, to say the least, a rather unpleasant thousand-odd yards. Urbosa and Zelda periodically shouted encouragement that was almost inaudible over the sharp tones of the lightning crashing against the barrier and the loud ringing that they left behind – Mipha could barely recognise their voices. But even without meaning their support spurred all the champions on, and, before Mipha could even register how close they were getting, the champions found themselves beneath the giant stone feet of the hulking beast, which were imbued with a glowing, purple light.

There was another thunderous crack of lightning . Mipha cringed back once again, which almost caused her to miss Urbosa, who tilted her head back to stare up at the body of Naboris that formed a distant cloud far above them. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but the resonance from the last strike had deafened Mipha to the point that she couldn’t hear herself think, let alone her another’s voice. She supposed Urbosa was attempting to call off Vah Naboris’ defensive mechanism (she wasn’t entirely sure how the beasts could hear their pilots across such large distances, but she knew from experience that such unimportant things didn’t matter to them) though Mipha wasn’t expecting much. It usually took her a great deal of concentration and willpower to get Ruta to do even the most basic of commands, and this was far beyond the most basic of commands. So, she covered her ears, shut her eyes and prayed fervently that shutting down the defence mechanism wouldn’t take more than half a minute. She didn’t think her ears, dull as they may be compared to those of a Hylian, could last that long.

But, to her immense surprise, bare seconds after Urbosa had finished speaking, the Divine Beast suddenly halted in its path, before letting out a low moan and slowly sagging to its knees. The lights in its feet were dispelled. The lightning stopped. The beast let out one last growl, which sounded to Mipha like a long sigh after a hard day, before coming to a complete standstill and lowering a large stone ramp which touched down just a few dozen yards away from the waiting champions. Judging by the expressions on the other pilot’s faces, Mipha wasn’t alone in her astonishment. Daruk, who had never so much as gotten Rudania to _move_ before, was staring open-mouthed at the waiting entrance, while Revali looked completely and utterly gobsmacked that this trip appeared not to be as frivolous as he claimed. Urbosa, on the other hand, was wearing a small smile under the helmet, while Zelda looked simply delighted at what she was witnessing.

“Yes!” She looked about ready to punch the air and prance around excitedly in a state of wild excitement, but, perhaps realising that her reaction wasn’t the display of self-control expected of her, she reined in her enthusiasm. “I mean, I- it seems that Urbosa’s predictions were, in fact, correct. She had discovered the way the ancient Sheikah intended the power of the Divine Beasts to be harnessed.”

“It seems this trip was not for nothing, after all.” Urbosa added, taking off the Thunder Helm and shooting a glance at Revali, who returned it with interest. Clearly, his ego had just taken a rather large blow.

“Yes, yes, all right, this little adventure may not have been as unproductive as I first conceived it as,” he growled, glaring at Urbosa as if he wished her nothing but ill. “But how, pray tell, did you manage this... little display you’ve got going on here?” He gestured disdainfully at the docile creature lying beside them. His voice carried the impression that the whole thing was of no consequence to him, but there was a subtle hunger in his tone that betrayed what he truly felt. Clearly, his thirst for information was not enough to quench his innate desire to present himself as superior.

Urbosa cocked her eyebrows. Her smug expression showed she clearly hadn’t missed Revali’s trick. “I think that we would do better to explain that inside,” she replied, motioning with her head towards the stone passageway, lined with soft blue lines of light that seemed the staple of Sheikah architecture.

“I agree,” Zelda said, who had moved towards the ramp even before Urbosa had finished speaking, her gait showing just how excited she really was by the ancient artefact. Daruk followed, still looking slightly stunned, and Revali, with a final glare at Urbosa, did the same. Urbosa turned to Mipha and gestured towards the open passage, and she followed the Gerudo into the belly of the gigantic beast, thoughts of Link temporarily driven from her mind.

Link delayed for a few seconds before following Mipha, allowing a healthy gap to form between them. For a second, his eyes quickly flickered towards her retreating back, before just as quickly moving away.

. . .

Zelda steered the champions into what appeared to be the central structure of Vah Naboris; a large, cylindrical cavern subdivided into three distinct sectors. The perfect curve made standing on the surface of the cylinder rather precarious, and Mipha was glad for the subtle texture etched into its stone surface that provided a grip for her bare feet. Once all the champions were assembled in the middle section of the room, Zelda broke the news to them all, her words tumbling over each other in their haste to get out.

“Lady Urbosa has such success in controlling her beast,” she informed them, her face alight with excitement, “because she speaks to Naboris not as one speaks to a machine, but as to another being .”

The reception for this rather dramatic proclamation was about as anticlimactic as one could have hoped for.

None of the champions gave any exclamations of surprise or excitement. None of the champions made any noise at all. On the contrary, they all stared silently at Zelda as if she had gone utterly insane. Daruk’s brow was furrowed, Revali’s eyebrows were high on his head in a gesture of scepticism, and even Mipha couldn’t stop a small frown peeking out through her otherwise politely neutral expression. Speak to the beasts as if to another _being_?

Zelda looked around at the congregation in front of her, her face falling as she saw that her announcement hadn’t been met with the overwhelming enthusiasm that she had obviously hoped for. She cleared her throat, and tried once again. “I... I mean, Urbosa speaks to Vah Naboris as if it too is capable of thought.”

Her second attempt was met with no more understanding than the first. Mipha tried to hold back her confusion from showing on her face – which she supposed she was failing miserably at - while a small, condescending smile had begun to worm its way onto Revali’s beak. He obviously believed the Hyrulean princess to have completely lost it. Daruk spoke up first, his words the echo of what all the champions were wondering.

“Uhh... Zelda?” he asked hesitantly. Zelda turned eagerly towards him. “Are you saying that the Divine Beasts are actually... like people?”

Zelda seized eagerly onto his question. “Yes! That’s exactly what I’m saying. I believe that these beasts show indication of intelligent thought!”

“You’re not serious?” Revali butted in, his voice sounding as disdainful as Mipha had ever heard it. “You really think that these... these lumps of stone are intelligent?”

Zelda looked markedly hurt at his complete and utter dismissal of her theory. She opened her mouth to reply, but her confidence seemed to have been derailed, and, after a few seconds, she closed it again. Before Revali could press his advantage, Urbosa stepped forward. She cocked her head upward and glanced at the rounded ceiling high above them, a small smile playing around her lips.

“Naboris, dear, would you mind showing Revali exactly what our princess is talking about?” she asked genially. Revali’s smug expression rapidly transformed into one of shock as, with an affirming toot from Naboris, the curved section upon which they were all standing moved a few degrees in a clockwise direction. Revali staggered, but, due to the slow speed and short length of the rotation, he quickly regained his balance. After making sure that he was well and truly steady, he stood erect and snorted dismissively.

“Very impressive, Lady Urbosa, but this doesn’t prove anything,” he crowed. “We are all aware that the beasts withhold the capacity to respond to verbal commands. Your skill at convincing it to obey you at such short notice is _admirable_ -” the heavy emphasis he placed on the word _admirable_ made it clear that he found it anything but, “-yet I cannot see how this proves that the beast was reacting to-”

Mid-sentence, and, Mipha noted, without further instructions from Urbosa, Vah Naboris suddenly jerked the same section around in the opposite direction, more violently than they had before. Mipha, who had been standing on a relatively flat section of the curved surface, just managed to recover, but Revali, on a steeper incline and caught completely by surprise, fell forward and landed on his face. Daruk gave a short bark of laughter, and even Mipha had to smile at seeing Revali humiliated. Urbosa shook her head in mock disappointment as she watched Revali pick himself up, scowling viciously, and take his place back in the semicircle of champions.

“Good work, my friend,” Urbosa called to the ceiling. From high above them, they heard another far-off noise from Naboris – this one, unless Mipha’s ears were deceiving her, holding a hint of triumph. Revali snarled, but declined comment.

Zelda now perked up a little – though Mipha wasn’t sure whether this was because of what happened to Revali or Naboris’ reaction proving her theory past the point of disbelief. Past the point of disbelief though it may have been proven, Mipha still couldn’t quite believe that the solution had been so simple, and yet so elegant. It all seemed to fit.

“Don’t you see? These beasts display insurmountable evidence for being intelligent; as much, in fact, as we do,” Zelda told them. “It is my belief that we would see far greater results if, instead of continuing with our ineffective method of brute-force to control these creatures, we communicate with them as if talking to people, even friends.”

Daruk scratched his beard. He still looked a mite confused, but, with the evidence wholly on the side of Zelda’s theory, he also sounded pretty convinced. “So, you think that we should just try being friends with our beasts?”

“Yes!” Zelda nodded, grateful for the question and encouraged by the tone in his voice. “Attempt to talk to your beasts as if they were people. Ask them politely to act for you. Thank them for what they do. And, in time, maybe you really will come to see your beasts as true friends.”

Her voice sounded eagerly hopeful, as if she couldn’t wait to see just how close the pilots could become with their beasts. Her enthusiasm felt infectious to Mipha, but it was clear that not everyone shared in the sentiment.

“Pardon me for the interruption,” Revali spoke up stiffly. Mipha groaned internally. Revali appeared to have gotten over his embarrassment remarkably fast, and had regained his unfortunate tendency to insult even faster. “May I ask how exactly these beasts are to communicate back? I, for one, haven’t witnessed Naboris make any effort at communication; expect the… the loud blaring noises, of course,” He eyed Urbosa sceptically. “Please don’t tell me you’ve managed to decipher _those_.”

Urbosa shook her head, a confident smile on her face. “You’ll be pleased to hear I have, in fact, not,” she reported, with a slight dry note in her voice. “The beast communicates in abstract feelings and expressions, not through sound.”

Revali leant back in exaggerated surprise. “Abstract feelings and expressions?” he echoed in mock confusion. “And how, pray tell, does it do that?”

Urbosa gave a small shrug, and said, “Telepathically.”

There was another stunned silence. Mipha didn’t think this was much of a stretch, considering that Urbosa had just proven that the beasts were intelligent; in fact, next to that, telepathy seemed entirely plausible. Revali, on the other hand, was absolutely blindsided. After several attempts and subsequent failures to find his voice, he eventually spluttered into speech.

“Telepathically?” he demanded. “ _Telepathically_? I do hope you understand how utterly ludicrous that sounds! First you claim that these beasts are intelligent, and now you declare that they communicate with you telepathically?”

Urbosa’s reply was yet another slight shrug. “You think that makes any less sense than the beasts themselves?” she challenged, and Revali appeared to have no answer. He sputtered into silence, looked utterly shook.

“Sometimes when I am around Ruta,” Mipha interjected into the awkward pause left behind, “I feel thoughts and emotions that are not my own. At the time, I believed myself to be imagining things, but, in hindsight, it _is_ possible that Ruta has been trying to communicate with me.”

Zelda, who had looked slightly out of her depth in the fierce debate between Revali and Urbosa, seemed relieved at the respite Mipha’s question provided, and nodded empathetically. “I agree. When this next happens, you should attempt to connect in turn.” she told Mipha, who inclined her head in a gesture of agreement.

“But... you honestly think that it is... plausible for a machine to be self-aware?” Revali asked faintly, his tone making it seem like he was grasping at straws, attempting desperately to keep his counter-theory afloat.

“Do you have any other, more viable explanation?” Urbosa countered, and Revali gave in. Turning his head so that they couldn’t see his face, he huffed, the sound making it clear how much he despised this entire conversation.

“Fine,” he growled over his shoulder. “Perhaps our princess’s theory has some merit after all. I shall... take it into account.”

There was another awkward silence, and this time it was Daruk who broke it. “Well, I’m not sure I get everything that’s goin’ on here, but if this whole ‘feelings’ business gives me a shot at taking down Calamity Ganon, I’m in!”

“I agree,” Mipha added, her voice noticeably softer than the Goron’s good-natured bellow. “We have stumbled blindly in this area for far too long. I, for one, am glad that this situation has finally been rectified.”

Zelda smiled at both of them. She seemed calmer – more at ease – now that her theory was out, had tangible evidence to back it up and was supported by the pilots (well, most of the pilots, at least). “I thank you for your support and kind words, Mipha. And you, Daruk. It is my hope that this knowledge will benefit us exponentially, and give us the weapon that we so desperately need to defeat the impending threat of Calamity Ganon.”

“Well,” Urbosa said happily, “now that we’ve got all that sorted out, how about some dinner?”

Zelda broke away from Mipha’s gaze and directed another smile towards Urbosa. “That sounds wonderful, Lady Urbosa. Shall we?”

“You better bet we should!” Daruk exclaimed in excitement. “Man, I’ve been waiting for this meal all day; or, well, at least since lunch,” he corrected himself. Zelda’s smile widened at this, and Urbosa let out a little snort or laughter. “So, anyway, where’s the dining hall in this place?”

The Gerudo shook her head. “No dining hall, my friend, but I’m sure we’ll be able to arrange something. Right this way.” She gestured towards a little passageway off further into the beast, and Daruk bounded past her in his haste to get to his next meal. With a grin on her face, Urbosa moved into position behind him, and Revali, with another long-suffering, disgruntled huff, followed her, glaring at her back the entire way. Zelda moved behind Revali, making a motion for Mipha to follow.

Mipha was about to take her place in the procession, when, out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Link. And he was staring at her. Shocked, she looked over to stare back, but, as soon as he saw that she had noticed, he dropped his gaze and turned away before she could see what was behind his eyes. She gazed at his back for a second – which was, as he had been for the past day, tense and agitated – before a call from Zelda caused her to yank her eyes away from him and turn mechanically back towards the champions.

While Zelda’s revelation would undoubtedly prove paramount in the upcoming conflict, it had also served a dual purpose for Mipha. With all her concentration on the Divine Beast, she had no time to think, worry, and stress needlessly of Link. It had been like a breath of fresh air – a cool drink on a hot day, perhaps – but now, with nothing left to distract it, her mind had once again found itself under torment, filled with questions of _when_ and _why_ and, most importantly, _what is wrong?_

As she plunged once again into another struggle with her thoughts, she suddenly remembered that, just before entering the beast, she had settled on a compromise. With the option of confronting Link directly now blocked to her, she had decided to instead confront a certain Gerudo Chieftain; one who had been very secretive about what cards they held, and very careful in the way they played them. It appeared that it was now finally time for Urbosa to explain herself. Explain the comment that had so consumed Mipha for the entire day. Explain what she knew – or what she thought she knew – of Link. Maybe then Mipha’s burning curiosity would subside.

With this thought in mind, she resolutely walked through the archway and followed the rest of the champions. Thinking not of them, but of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I first conceived this whole ‘talking beasts’ idea, I immediately dismissed it. At face value, it sounded so childish; like something from the Chronicles of Narnia. And yet, the more I thought about it, the more I warmed up to it. I know that we hear Mipha, for one, refer to Ruta as if Ruta was its own being, and I wouldn’t be surprised it there are other phrases that point in the same direction. In the end, I decided to put it in, feeling that, while it may sound childish in the moment, it made sense in the bigger picture. I hope you agree.
> 
> But, now, we’re finally up to the climax. This next chapter is, as the definition of climax states, the ‘most intense, exciting and important part’ of the story, and I hope you enjoy it. And I wonder, in your speculations and assumptions about what the climax may be, if you had ever guessed the truth.


	7. Confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m terribly sorry about the lack of upload yesterday. The only time in which I could work on this was 9pm, and by that time I was so tired that I could barely string two words together. While it is annoying because I’ll have to upload this late on the 20th in AEDT, which is before I said I would, it’s going to be out on the 20th before anyone in the PST region is awake, and pretty early in EST as well. So, I suppose it’s still out before AoC?

Sitting around the smouldering ruins of what was once a blazing campfire, Daruk tipped back his head and laughed uproariously at a joke that Urbosa had just cracked. Zelda grinned, and Revali turned his head away in exasperation as Daruk pounded Urbosa on the back, nearly sending her toppling forward off her chair as he did so. Mipha, however, heard none of it. She nibbled on her supper morosely, dead to the world, completely absorbed in her own thoughts. Thoughts that were, once again, solely of Link.

During dinner (a dinner that was, much to Mipha’s dismay, cooked by Revali), Link’s state had evolved once again from brooding and agitated to simply downright agitated. His breathing became irregular and erratic, his movements, which where once limited, were suddenly plentiful and sharp, and the quiet conflict behind his eyes had escalated to the level of a full-scale battle. Moreover, Mipha’s suspicion that he was sending her covert glances became a definite certainty. It both fuelled the fire in Mipha’s heart - the deep desire for her burning questions to be answered - and drowned her mind in a flood of concern for him.

Mipha’s thoughts had peaked when Link, after several minutes of his degrading state, unobtrusively slipped away from the group, leaving her with another boatload of worries and questions to process. Where had he gone? _Why_ had he gone? And what did it have to do with her? Mipha was convinced that it had something to do with their suddenly-awkward relationship, but no matter how she sliced it, she couldn’t see what it was. He had admitted that he shared not the feelings that Mipha did for him, but ones of simple friendship. There shouldn’t be any reason why he was acting in such a way. So why was he?

Yet Urbosa’s parting comment stuck with her, haunting the edges of her mind like a shadow that she could identify but couldn’t quite name. _Did_ he know more than she gave him credit for? She couldn’t see how – he had already made it clear he didn’t - but Urbosa _had_ told her that she had Mipha’s best interests in mind, and Mipha couldn’t help but believe the Gerudo. If Urbosa genuinely cared, there must have been a reason why she had dropped that particular comment. But why? Just to get her thinking? Just to give her hope?

Just to keep her trying?

Mipha was determined now, more than ever, to confront the chief; to finally find the truth and quiet her mind. But as dinner had wound down into supper and supper had slowly dissolved into general chatter, opportunities had run consistently thin. Still, she wasn’t ready to give up; she was determined to see this through. In the meantime, she contented herself with her overwhelming thoughts as she stared moodily into the long-deceased fire, absent from the world around her and apart from the levity of her comrades.

When the conversation did, finally, come to a close, it did so abruptly – and she had Revali to thank for that. After one particularly long debate between him and Urbosa and Daruk, he apparently decided that he had lost one too many verbal battles today. Standing up so sharply that his chair was knocked over, he crouched down, and, before Mipha could begin to react to the sudden movement, a whirlwind formed around him, whipping Mipha’s face like a dagger and forcing her to look away as the breath was suddenly sucked from her lungs. When she looked back, the whirlwind had dissipated as quickly as it had appeared, and Revali was soaring gracefully out of one of the windows, flying off towards the roof of Naboris, where he would doubtless spend the night nursing a grudge against the champions, and cursing himself for his failure.

Mipha’s level of alertness had been raised by his sudden departure, such that she was able to now pick up on the nature of the conversation. There was some attempt at scattered talk, though her fellow champions seemed to have been as taken aback by Revali’s departure as she was. All discussion that was passed between them felt short-lived and sounded unnatural. Zelda seemed to agree with her; after just a few short minutes of awkward small talk, she stood up.

“I must be going to bed,” she announced. “It has been a long night, and an exhausting day preceding it. I suggest that you all do the same soon. We have another walk tomorrow morning, and fatigue will not serve us well on it. Goodnight, all.”

With a small, subdued smile, she turned and began moving down the passageway that led to her sleeping quaters. The eyes of those still around the campfire followed her mutely until she turned and moved out of sight down another corridor. In Zelda’s absence, there was no attempt even at small talk; the silence was punctuated only by the soft whistling of the wind outside, and the distant, muffled crashes as Vah Naboris meandered its way across the vast, cold desert. Daruk was the next to eventually break the awkward silence, and followed her lead.

“Can’t argue with that logic,” he said jovially. “I guess I’ll be off to bed as well. ‘Night.”

In response to a nod from Urbosa, he too hurried off down the corridor towards where he was to be sleeping. Neither Urbosa nor Mipha watched him as he left. Both simply stared in silence at the embers of the dying fire, the only light the illumination that it provided, the only warmth the heat it expelled, the only guidance the glow it emitted. Daruk rounded the corner, and, with one final glance in their direction, was gone.

And now, finally, Mipha and Urbosa were alone for the first time since that morning.

It was time. Time for the questions which had plagued her heart to finally be answered. Time for her mind, which had today been a bubbling pool of worries and tangled emotions, to finally be quieted. Time for Urbosa to explain her cryptic comment; to explain why she believed that Link understood though the evidence suggested that he didn’t. Perhaps the Gerudo Chief already knew of Mipha’s intentions before the Zora even opened her mouth – her eyes became noticeably tighter as she glanced up in expectation.

“Lady Urbosa, I…” Mipha began, but her words soon trailed off as she caught sight of something illuminated in the dying light of the crumbling embers; something that shocked her so completely that her question died unspoken in her mouth. In complete disbelief, she turned to stare at the downcast figure making their slow, distracted way towards her.

Link stopped short just outside the perimeter of chairs that surrounded the dead campfire, his head downcast, and his face in shadow. There was a long pause, during which Mipha suddenly found it difficult to think straight. _Why is he here_? Why had he returned? Was it coincidence that he had make his appearance just as everyone else had left? Had he planned it? If so, what for? What did it have to do with her, and what did it have to do with them? All these thoughts and more suddenly flared up to be the next to consume Mipha’s mind, causing her breath to catch in her throat as she froze, completely blindsided by this unexpected turn of events.

When she eventually regained her voice, she asked, her voice uncomprehending, “L-Link?”

As if in response, Link raised his head ever so slightly, just enough to reveal his eyes. They were wrought with the great conflict that he had been concealing the entire day; the conflict that he now appeared to be unable to disguise, overflowing from its boundaries like the breaking of a dam. To say he looked troubled would have been a gross understatement; he looked like the lone, shellshocked survivor of a battle far beyond the scope of any of the action he had so often bore witness too.

And then, out of his mouth, came a soft, yet steady voice. Quietly determined, as if he had committed to a course of action that, while horrific, was the only way forward; “Urbosa. May I have a word in private?”

Mipha stared, shocked at hearing him speak in front of others besides her, confused at the nature of his request, and (though she would never admit it), slightly hurt that he had not acknowledged her, but had instead directed his question towards Urbosa. “Link-”

“Of course.” Urbosa said grimly, cutting Mipha off. Mipha glanced at her, startled. Urbosa’s eyes had gone suddenly hard, as if she, too, was feeling the exact same sense as Link; that same feeling of inevitability of the course he had set himself on, that same determination to help him along it as best she could. She caught Mipha staring at her, dumbfounded, and tried for a reassuring grin. It came out as forced.

“You should go to bed, Mipha. Link and I just need to have a little... chat.” Urbosa told her, a dark sense of foreboding interlaced with the word _chat_. Mipha glanced back in bewilderment at Link, who was still staring, conflicted, at the floor, then back towards Urbosa. She felt baffled; incapable of understanding.

“But I-”

“Mipha,” Urbosa interrupted again, her voice noticeably more commanding. It clearly stated that her suggestion was not an optional one. Seeing Mipha’s confused and hurt expression, her voice softened, and she added, with just a hint of a genuine smile, “don’t worry, I’ll take good care of him.”

Mipha sat, staring, for another second, before abruptly coming to a decision. She may not know exactly what was going on here, but it was clear that Link needed some time to talk to Urbosa, and, for the Gerudo to be taking his request so seriously, it must be important. She might not understand – perhaps she never would understand – but, no matter how he felt in return, she loved him. And this was what he wanted. No matter how hard it was for her, she had to give in. Anything that might help Link.

She nodded resolutely. “Of course, Lady Urbosa. Goodnight to you. And... goodnight, Link.”

Link didn’t acknowledge her. Mipha turned around, desperately attempting to force down her misgivings, and stalked off towards the door that led to her sleeping area. She had gotten up to it, and was just about to try and pass through it, when she suddenly realised that it was both closed and locked. Urbosa, glancing up from watching Link slowly lowe himself into the seat that Mipha had just occupied, noticed this instantly. “Naboris, would you be a dear and open this door for Mipha?”

With a low blare from high above them, the door slid open. Mipha walked through it, determined not to break composure and glance back, and moved hastily to where she had earlier set out the makeshift bedspread that Urbosa had managed to procure for her. As she made her way around the curve of the balcony, she heard the soft hiss of the door shutting itself behind her, followed by the almost imperceptible _clunk_ as the lock thudded into place, sealing her onto the balcony.

Sealing away her last chance to turn around and demand an explanation from Urbosa. Sealing away her last chance to run back towards Link and attempt to comfort him herself. Sealing away her last chance to understand. To find peace.

 _I am being overdramatic_ , she scolded herself as she undressed and settled down into the heavy, warm covers of her bed. There were, after all, plenty more opportunities to try and wheedle the truth out of Urbosa – she had the whole day ahead of her tomorrow. Still, there was no denying that she had sentenced herself to a long night and an even longer morning of worries, and stress and nonunderstanding. Link’s sudden appearance, and subsequent request, weighed heavily on her mind. She had assumed that there couldn’t possibly be anything more for her to ponder, but he had proven her wrong; her mind was overflowing with concerns, and questions, and confusion. What could he possibly have to say to Urbosa, or she to him? Why had he not asked Mipha? What did this have to do with her?

_Does he know more than what I give him credit for? And if so, what does it mean to him?_

It was lucky that Mipha was so tired; she couldn’t imagine herself falling asleep if she was not. Her thoughts were so numerous that, after a while, she gave up trying to contain them and let them run rampant until they tired themselves out and fell down from exhaustion. The constant stress faded into a dull ache as fatigue slowly overtook her, and she began to nod off into an uneasy sleep. She was just about the fall completely into the comforting world of rest, when, from behind her, a voice called her name.

“Mipha?”

Mipha’s entire body sprung upwards. She nearly gave herself whiplash attempting to suddenly turn towards the source of the voice, her heart hammering madly in her chest, shock giving her a burst of energy and abruptly driving away the feeling of fatigue that had only seconds ago threatened to consume her, to see Link, looking as stricken and yet quietly determined as earlier, making his way towards her bed from across the balcony.

Mipha had been embarrassed before, when, naked, she had discussed sensitive topics with Link in the dead of night. Mipha had been confused before, when Link had arrived unannounced and requested conversation with Urbosa, completely ignoring Mipha. Mipha had been shocked before, when Link had shown up to see her in at the oasis of his own accord. All of those events combined could not match the utter embarrassment, confusion and shock that Mipha felt flood through her body as Link, of his own accord, looking wrought and conflicted, and immediately after requesting a private conversation with Urbosa, the topic of which was almost certainly Mipha, approached her in the dead of night as she lay naked in her bed.

“Link?” Mipha whispered, almost to herself, as Link slowly crossed over to where she lay, still half-tangled in her bedsheets. Even now he did not look at her as he sat down heavily on the floor next to her bed, but simply stared at the wall and bit his lip nervously, as if hoping to find instructions on how to proceed written there. Mipha too, felt as though she required guidance on what she was supposed to do in this situation. This whole event was so out of place, so utterly beyond the scope of everything but her wildest fantasies, that she simply could not fathom what she was to do. She did nothing but stare, her heart beating so loudly that she was positive it was audible, her thoughts so numerous that she could practically hear them buzzing around her mind like a swarm of wasps.

Eventually, Link spoke. His voice was low, and, for the first time in what seemed like an age, not neutral, nor controlled, nor modulated. It was like an open book – clearly displayed to all who heard – and spoke volumes about what he felt. It was filled with worry. With uncertainty. With fear. “Mipha, I... I need to tell you something.”

“Y-yes?” she squeaked out in reply. Her voice was little more than a high squeak in stark comparison to Link’s low murmur. It seemed that the climax she had been simultaneously hoping for and dreading had finally arrived. Was he about to, as Urbosa had said yesterday, ‘put her down’?

Link began to speak, but then hesitated. His hands twitched slightly, and then lay still. The conflict still burning bright behind his eyes was rising up into a crescendo; its passage mirrored Mipha’s own fears and uncertainties, which gripped her steadier by the minute, until her nerves were stretched to breaking point. She needed him to go on now; she didn’t think that she could handle much more of this tension. She began to speak his name. “Link-”

Without warning, Link grabbed her head in both of his hands – in a grip that both held her firmly and yet cradled her cheeks so lovingly – closed his eyes, pulled her towards him, planted his lips firmly on hers and, before Mipha could begin to react, or even comprehend what was happening, he was kissing her.

Something indescribable exploded inside of Mipha; a feeling that, in its entirety, was far too complex for any words of any language invented or yet to be invented. It contained themes of joy, surprise, elation, euphoria, confusion, victory and love, all rolled into one and now flooding through Mipha’s system, relaxing tense muscles and filling her mind with a sense of complete and utter tranquillity. After struggling for a second in shock at the abruptness of Link’s act, she let herself submit to him, her own arms reaching out to wrap themselves around his neck, pulling herself further into him as she kissed him back. She felt completely fulfilled – like her whole life so far had been leading up to this point. Like its purpose was Link; the desire for Link, and the desire to give herself to Link. Presenting herself to him, and receiving him in return.

Mipha poured everything she had into that kiss, wanting desperately to show Link her years of love for him, her long hours where she thought of nothing but him, her deep desires for him that overrode every other desire she had ever had. In that moment, she forgot her worries, and her struggles, and her fears. It was only her and Link; nothing else mattered to her. Nothing but the feeling of his lips gently caressing hers, showing her just how much he cared - just how much he had to give. Nothing but the feel of him pressing into her, in a way that was so firm and yet so loving - which demanded nothing but gave plenty. Nothing but the soft touch of his hands on her face, pulling them closer together - further into one another’s embrace. And nothing but the sheer sensation of him being with her. Giving to her. Loving her.

After what seemed to Mipha like several, long, bliss-filled years – though, in all likelihood, was only several seconds - Link finally pulled away. He examined Mipha’s face, a gentle smile on his own, his hands still cradling her head, and, for the first time in months, met Mipha’s eyes. Through them, Mipha could finally see what he had once hidden away; his life, his energy, his kindness and his love, absent for so long, and yet so fitting on him. It was not the Link that he had turned into. It was the Link that she had fallen for. The Link that was not dead, as she had feared, but merely dormant, awaiting someone to call him out once again. Awaiting her.

And then, abruptly, he dropped his gaze, and his hands fell into his lap. His expression, which had previously been decorated with a loving smile, collapsed. Mipha quickly unwound her arms from around his next and moved back in confusion as he quietly said, “There. It’s done.”

Mipha’s body was swimming with so many hormones that she could barely form cohesive thought, only a sense of overwhelming joy. She couldn’t understand why Link was suddenly looking so miserable. It showed in her response; “W-what?”

“We’ve done it,” he continued, his voice laced with melancholy as he glanced back up at her. His face was twisted in a sad sort of smile. “We’ve done it. What we’ve both wanted for years. It’s finally out, and... now it’s done,” He took a deep breath and looked down again, his face falling into despair. “And we can... move on.”

The blissful aftereffects of the kiss were suddenly washed away by a wave of gripping fear, both at his words and the pain in his eyes as he said them. _Move on... but..._ “I- what do you mean by ‘move on’?”

Link tensed. His eyes closed, and he took in a deep breath, before slowly letting it out. Whatever he had hoped to hear, this apparently wasn’t it. Mipha’s fear, which had been lost in the kiss, suddenly returned, and subsequently doubled. There was a very pregnant pause, before Link opened his eyes, looked away from Mipha as if he couldn’t bear to see her face any longer, and finally spoke.

“Mipha,” His voice was soft, and remarkably similar to the voice that Urbosa used when she had asked, _did he put you down?_ It had that same quality, as if he was trying to dull a blow, or lessen the pain of death. “I... I’m sorry. We can’t be together.”

Mipha’s euphoria plummeted. Confusion and fear overtook her. She stared at Link, uncomprehending, as he looked blankly at the opposite wall, his face a mask of misery. What was he saying? They couldn’t be together – but why!? They now knew their true feelings for each other, and now, with them in the open, there was nothing in the way of seeing them come true! What _could_ possibly be in the way of them? Mipha desired nothing more than to fully be his, and yet he...

It took her several tries to find her voice. “But... Link, now we know that-”

“No!” Link yelled, turning to shoot a fierce glare at her, the sudden vehemence in his voice coupled with the fire in his eyes causing Mipha to recoil, nearly tripping over her own bedsheets in her shock. Seeing her startled reaction, his voice and face softened, and his sudden anger dissolved into a fresh wave of sadness. “I’m sorry, Mipha, but we can’t! I want it more than anything, too, but it’s not going to happen!”

Without giving Mipha a chance to speak, he began rattling off his arguments, his voice both heated and yet simultaneously broken, as if he was listing evidence that justified his death sentence to one who was certain of his innocence. “I have a duty now. Like it or not, it is my duty to protect Princess Zelda, and, by extension, the entirety of Hyrule, against the upcoming attack from Calamity Ganon! I am the one who must strike the beast down, for goodness sake! I cannot afford to be distracted by you, with every eye upon me, believing in me, trusting me, counting on me for their lives! As much as I love you, I cannot forfeit the entirety of Hyrule for your sake. My duty to my people must come first, no matter how much it pains me.”

His voice broke on the latter part of the last sentence, and gave a brief sob. It was obvious how much all this was paining him to say, but there was determination to see this through still burning behind his eyes as he pressed on resolutely - a determination, it seemed, to doom himself, and his future. “And you have a duty as well; a duty to your own people. Even disregarding your responsibility in this upcoming conflict, the Domain needs you! They do not want me to be with you, they need you to be with another Zora-” his voice cracked again, “-to be fully devoted to your people! They don’t want _me_ as your consort! They need you to be the strongest that you can be, and none of them want to see you with a _Hylian_ , distracted, thinking of interests other than that of the Zora people! You have a duty as well, one which I have no place in. Which I never will.”

With another sob, his voice died completely. Mipha stared at him in complete shock, watching helplessly as he tore their future down around them. What scared her most was not his words, terrible as they may be. It was the fact that this wasn’t simply the product of a wild imagination seeing things that weren’t there. This was a logical conclusion that Link had obviously reached over many long, torturous, sleepless nights, during which he had argued back and forth with himself, trying to keep his hopes afloat but finding them capsize at every turn. What he said was genuine. It made sense. It was a solid argument, and with every word he spoke her dream slipped further and further away from her.

And yet she couldn’t stop chasing it. No matter how many valid points he threw in her direction, no matter how many of his arguments threatened to drag her down, it couldn’t snuff out her hope like it had his. The prospect of a future where she _not_ with him was so bleak, so utterly desolate, that she couldn’t stop believing in her dream. If her future was to be without him, it hardly seemed like a future at all. Rather, it seemed like an endless trek through the monotony of life, with neither break nor respite. Without meaning. And she knew that it would be the same for him without her.

“But, Link,” she said, her voice sounding almost as broken as his, laced with pleading, “can you not see that there may be no future for us apart? That, without each other, there may be no point in even living out the years of our life? I do not believe that I could live my life to even a fraction of the degree without you as it would have been with.”

“Yes, Mipha, I see ,” he replied, his voice sounding tired and overwhelmed. It was clear that he had been desperately - and perhaps foolishly – hoping that it would not come to a confrontation such as this. That he would just be able to keep quiet, and let their relationship dissolve, and make his life a misery. “Without each other, there is little hope for our futures. And yet there is a point of living; to fulfil our duty to our people, independently of each other. Our duty to our people overrides all else and gives our life the pale imitation of meaning – an existence of misery, but of purpose. And, no matter how hard it is, it is an existence we now must both endure. Our duty for the greater good overrides all else.”

Mipha shook her head, her vision blurring as her eyes teared up. “I... can’t believe that. No one should have to sacrifice who they are, and what they need, for the greater good. There must be another way...”

“They shouldn’t,” Link agreed, his voice heavy with regret. He glanced over again and met Mipha’s eyes, and his own were laced with silvery tears as well. Mipha couldn’t even recall the last time she had seen him cry. His stoic façade – the silent knight that he had shrouded himself in – had been torn down, and all that was left was Link. Vulnerable, afraid, helpless Link. She wanted to comfort him, but she had no idea how. “They shouldn’t have to, but… but we do. It’s unfair, but... I'm afraid there is no other way.”

Mipha had no response to that. This time it was her who dropped her gaze from his own, allowing the tears pooling in her eyes to slide down her face in mute silence. She wiped them away with one hand. When she glanced up, she saw Link leaking tears of his own, wiping them miserably on his sleeve. When he had finished, he spoke again.

“Besides,” he added quietly, shaking off the remains of his tears violently, as if angry at himself for breaking in this way. “It’s like you said before. Even if this did all work out, you would live so much longer than any Hylian. I would die of old age, and you would be left a young widow . It just... won’t work out.”

Mipha remained silent for a second. _This_ was something that she had, in fact, considered; though not something that she liked to dwell upon. It did feel odd knowing that Link had lived his entire life - seventeen years - in the time it had taken Mipha to grow just shy of six inches. And that feeling was multiplied exponentially every time she considered the possibility of a future together.

“That may be true,” she admitted, her voice carefully measured. “But I would rather spend that short time with you than live my life knowing I went without.”

Link shook his head stubbornly. “It won’t work out,” he repeated, his voice resolute. “We both have duties now, and they allow no compromise. I'm sorry, but we have to face reality. We’ve been kept apart by fate, and no future of ours will work out in this way.”

There was another pause following his response. Both parties wallowed in pity and regret, completely absorbed in their own thoughts. Link was utterly convinced that, despite their love, it would not work out well, and he mourned for it. Mipha remained unconvinced, though was shocked by the depth of thought behind Link’s argument. His evidence was real, his despair based in fact. And yet, as before, she simply couldn’t find the will to give up. She couldn’t snuff out that spark. Her mind was not yet made up. _Kept apart by fate..._

Eventually, Mipha spoke up. “If you believe that we are destined to be apart, then why did you...” She gestured vaguely with her hands, trying to sum up everything Link had just done – approaching her in the dead of night and subsequently kissing her.

Link closed his eyes, as if in sudden pain. “I wasn’t going to, but I decided that I couldn’t have you running off with false hopes about a future that never would come. I couldn’t do that to you. I knew it would hurt more in the short-term, but it is my hope that, in the long run, this will eventually fade. I... know it will never do so fully, but it is my hope that you shall have... assurance in this, and that that will ultimately make it more bearable,” He swallowed. “As for the kiss, I just… I just had to do it. At least once. I’m... still not confident that it was the right way, but she told me not to...” He trailed off, before shaking his head. “I just had to come out and put your... your hopes to rest.”

Silence. “What gave it away?”

For the first time, a small smile crossed his face. “You kind of made it obvious last night, you know?” The smile vanished again as quickly as it had appeared as he stood up. He glanced down at Mipha, and all traces of humour were gone, replaced once again by resolute misery.

“I’m sorry it has to be this way, Mipha. For your sake especially,” he said quietly. “But... it’s as I said, we have duties to the greater good. We should probably just try to forget each other, and... move on as best we can.”

That last part was said without any real conviction, making it clear that he doubted that they would ever be able to forget their love for each other. Mipha shared in that opinion. She doubted that the pain would ever become tolerable, as he claimed; she knew she would remember this night for the rest of her life. She watched him as he turned and slowly began to walk back across the veranda, feeling tears once again spilling down her cheeks, before coming to a sudden decision.

Disentangling herself from her bedsheets (her lack of clothing seemed like such an insignificant concern after all this), she stood up and quickly began making her way towards him. He turned around, just in time for her to throw her arms around his waist and lay her head on his chest. After a slight hesitation, he squeezed her back, perhaps allowing himself one final moment with her before it all ended. There they stood for several seconds, enjoying one another for what very well may be the final time. Mipha, her head on his chest, listening to the dull thudding of his heart and gently stroking his back. Link, running a hand down the length of her dorsal fin, caressing it gently, feeling the fine meshwork of scales that layered it. He held onto her tightly, as if she was the only thing preventing him from slipping off the world and into oblivion.

Eventually, Mipha pulled away, and, still holding him at arm's length, looked upwards at his face.

“Whatever may come of this,” she said, her voice soft, “know that I will always be there for you.”

Link smiled his second smile of the night - a sad, bittersweet smile - as he stared deep into Mipha’s amber eyes. “I know.”

Mipha released him and stepped back. They held each other’s gaze for a second more, before he turned and once again slowly made his way towards the exit door. This time she made no move to stop him, but simply watched as he faced the door and, with a loud blaring noise from high above them, was let through. She only turned and went back to her bed several long minutes after the hissing noise of the doors sealing behind him had faded, their near-silent sound coming out loud and piercing against the cool calmness of the desert night.

She lay awake in for hours, thinking over what he had said. In that moment, the whole affair seemed almost surreal; her mind was in shock, moving slowly, incapable of fully understanding the ramifications of tonight. She knew that, by tomorrow night, the full impact of Link’s words would finally hit home, and she would most likely spend the next few nights – perhaps even the next few weeks – crying herself to sleep, as Link would most likely do tonight. But for now, she simply lay silently, her eyes upon and staring blankly at the floor, her mind slowly sifting through Link’s words; categorising them, analysing them, trying to understand exactly what they meant. Trying to figure out how she was now to proceed. Attempting to formulate her own conclusion. Eventually, just as the sun was beginning to rise and the world around her was beginning to wake up, she managed to drift off into an uneasy sleep.

Her lips still tingled from that kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The kiss wasn’t the hardest part for me to write, but it was certainly the most challenging. As in Chapter 4, I needed this moment to convey more than just the physical expression of the act. I needed to make it clear that what it symbolised to Mipha was far more than just a kiss; that it was, in fact, Link giving himself to her, albeit briefly, in that moment. And yet, as before, I didn’t want to ignore the physical intimacy of it. I needed to make it clear that Mipha was enjoying the physical nature of the interaction, and yet it was the symbolism that comes with him making that move towards her that was the most important to Mipha, and not the kissing itself. I doubt that the result is what most people would look for in a scene as intimate as this, but I'm proud of myself all the same.
> 
> And now, with the climax complete, we’ve nearly finished our journey together. The next chapter will be the resolution – not that it resolves much, mind you. And then this tale will truly come to an end.


	8. Departure

Mipha had little recollection of the events that transpired during the return journey to Kara Kara Bazaar. She was dimly aware of being woken up by Zelda – having slept in for the second time this trip due to her late night – and even more dimly aware of putting on her jewellery and ornamentation, picking up her Trident, and staggering down to meet the rest of the champions, who were, predictably, already awake. She _did_ , however, make sure that she stole a glance over at Link as she arrived. He seemed tense, certainly, but not tired. His eyes were still tight, but the conflict behind them had been settled. As before, he refused to meet her eye or otherwise acknowledge her. With his part said, it seemed there was to be no more interaction between him and Mipha. He had officially ended their relationship.

Once again, Mipha knew that, in time, this knowledge would turn from a dull ache to a stabbing pain, but, for now, her brain was far too shocked and fatigued to fully understand the impacts of Link’s words. When they eventually did hit home, having dreaded it beforehand would not dull its effects.

She fended off the well-meaning questions and queries from Zelda and Daruk with nods and mumbled excuses, though doubted that they swallowed them. Urbosa once again applied the solution to her back, though this time the Gerudo Chief was silent, answering her mumbled ‘thank you’ with only a small nod. Mipha absentmindedly shoved her Trident into Daruk’s bag, and before she even knew it, the champions were suddenly out in the desert, leaving the beast behind and striding towards the distance image of Kara Kara Bazaar.

Mipha had a long trip ahead of her to think. She hardly noticed the times that sand scratched and irritated her feet, or the lack of humidity that, while bearable, was hardly comfortable, or when she stumbled over a dune and nearly fell on her face. She took no notice of the discussion amongst the champions, who must surely be wondering what was wrong with her – this was the second conversation in a row she had opted out of. She had thoughts only for Link, and their conversation last night; attempting to process everything he said, and to figure out how she was to react. He believed that they couldn’t be together. He believed that their duties to their people prevented them from being together. He believed that any attempt of bringing them together would only end in tragedy and disaster, not only for them but for the people that they were tasked with protecting. He believed it couldn’t happen. That was his conclusion.

With his own position on the matter now laid bare, most of the journey was spent trying to sort and categorise Mipha’s own feelings and conclusions on the subject. Link had presented compelling evidence, yes, and that evidence had been backed with valid points. They _did_ have a duty to their people, and they _did_ have the responsibility of protecting Hyrule from a threat that it would otherwise be defenceless against, and these duties of theirs _did not_ cross paths. As he had pointed out, the likelihood of them together ending well was minimal. Logically, it was too implausible to even be attempted.

And yet, however many times she turned his words over in her head, she couldn’t quite believe that he was right. Even with every rational argument he had presented, she couldn’t let go of her own sentiment; _I would rather spend that short time with you than live my life knowing I went without - there may be no future for us apart_. No matter how hard she tried, she wasn’t able to give up on her dream, especially now she knew that, too, longed for a future where they were one, and not separated. She simply couldn’t lay those thoughts to rest, despite what Link had urged her to do. _No one should have to sacrifice who they are, and what they need, for the greater good_ – she had subconsciously used the word ‘need’, and she saw now just how appropriate it had been. She _needed_ Link, and he needed her. There _was_ no future for them apart. No purpose for their existence. And love wasn’t logical.

But, whenever she began to think this way, his sentiment came back to her, snuffing out the tender flame of hope like a sudden cold draught. No matter how they went about it, they would inevitably sacrifice their people as part of the equation. _I cannot forfeit the entirety of Hyrule for your sake…_

She had the feeling that, in his mind, those words were followed by, … _as much as I want to._

A conclusion was just beginning to form in the back of Mipha’s mind when the Bazaar suddenly came into sharper focus; her absent mind hadn’t noticed them getting so close. Mentally berating herself for her lack of attention, she gave a little shake to wake herself up as she followed the rest of the champions towards the circle of mismatched chairs that the champions had sat at only two nights ago. Mipha glanced back towards the oasis as she took her place amidst the champions, feeling a sudden rush of memories hit her as she did. Link had come to her there, back when she was so full of hope about their future and so blissfully unaware of his own intentions. That night may have only been just a few dozen hours ago, but her life had been so radically altered since then that it seemed like an eternity had passed.

Eventually, everyone managed to settle themselves into loose formation facing Zelda. Link was standing stoically behind her. Almost unwittingly, his eyes flicked towards Mipha, before he quickly let his gaze slide away from her as he realised that she was watching him. He glanced at Zelda’s back and his resolve visibly hardened. Mipha felt a dull blow resonate throughout her chest, and dropped her gaze as well. _I cannot forfeit the entirety of Hyrule for your sake…_

“Champions,” came Zelda’s formal address, causing Mipha’s eyes to jump back towards her, blushing at her momentary inattention and determinedly attempting not to glance at Link. “I once again thank you for your time. I hope that this trip has been productive for you all.”

Revali gave a small snort of derision, but it was almost instantly masked by Daruk’s booming voice. “You’d better bet it was, tiny princess! I can’t wait to go back and try out this ‘talking’ thing with Rudania! We’re going to have so much fun!”

A small smile broke through Zelda’s formality in response to his overenthusiasm. Though he may be the biggest and strongest of them all, Daruk’s large stature masked such an endearingly childish personality that it was hard not to get excited alongside him.

“Thank you, Daruk,” she said cordially, inclining her head in his direction, which effectively masked the little grin that insisted on poking out for a second before it resolved itself back into a good-natured smile. Then she turned towards Mipha and unexpectedly repeated herself, “And you, Lady Mipha?”

Mipha was taken aback for a second. She hadn’t expected to be asked such a direct question, especially not before she had the time to sort out her tangled thoughts and come to a conclusion. _Had this trip been productive?_ In one sense of the word, it certainly had been, but, in another, she wasn’t as sure. She hesitated for a brief second, before eventually managing to reply with, “It’s… certainly been quite an interesting trip.”

Zelda nodded, even though she had little idea of the true meaning layered behind face value in those words. Of course, there was no doubt that the revelation was certainly ground breaking to the entire company of champions, Mipha included; she would most likely spend much of her time back at the Domain attempting to connect with Vah Ruta. This trip had certainly contributed to the defence of Hyrule against the upcoming attack. And yet, in Mipha’s mind, far more paramount to her was Link’s confession. His confession of love that reciprocated her own, his confession of desire that matched her own, and his confession of his belief that their only path forward was one without that love and desire. Zelda’s conclusion may very well save their lives and secure their futures, but, then again, Mipha may no longer have any future to secure.

She realised that Zelda was again speaking, and hastened to focus, “-unfortunately, I will not be able to accompany you on the return trip out of Gerudo Desert. Urbosa and I will be staying behind for a few days longer to run some more expansive tests on the capabilities of the beasts now that we are aware of how to effectively communicate with them. We hope to glean as much information as we can so that we may be as prepared as it is possible to be when the time of Calamity arrives.”

Mipha felt a small wave of relief wash over her at the Hyrulean princess’s words. While she had been expecting Zelda to stay behind, it was nonetheless comforting to have the assurance that she would be spared Link’s company over the next few days. With the dynamic between them now shattered, it would be incredibly awkward to make the return journey in his presence. She needed some time away from Link to fully come to grips with everything that he had said. In her opinion, it was well worth the price of being a mediator between Revali and Daruk for a few days if she also had solitude from Link; solitude in which she could process, and comprehend, and mourn bitterly at their loss.

“A question, princess,” Revali spoke up. He was clearly still angry about being proven wrong yesterday, but there was no indication of insult in his tone; nothing beyond his usual flippant attitude towards those around him, at least. “Considering the fact that we will be long gone by the time you may find anything, then how is any information you may potentially gather to be of any application to us?”

Zelda nodded. “A good question, Master Revali,” she said. Revali raised a single eyebrow at this, but thankfully decided not to capitalise on his advantage. “I – along with my knight-“ she added hesitantly, “-will, in the next month or so, be travelling around Hyrule to the locations of the three remaining beasts to discuss any new findings we may have discovered, to ensure that you are making satisfactory progress on your own beast, and to perform a number of experiments on the individual functionality of each of the beasts.”

Revali’s beak twitched. He clearly didn’t relish the thought of the two Hylians showing up to Rito Village to run tests on Medoh. Mipha supposed that he didn’t enjoy the company of anyone except his own species – if even them. She had also heard that non-Rito had to be flown up to Vah Medoh on the back of a Rito, which was not something that she could imagine that his racist attitude would be pleased about. Much to her surprise, however, he didn’t express his extreme displeasure with the situation, as he usually would have done. Perhaps his defeat last night had been more impactful than Mipha had assumed.

As for Mipha’s own thoughts on the matter, she briefly pondered how exactly she was to feel knowing that Link would soon be once again arriving at the Domain, but it hurt her head, and she quickly desisted. Everything was far too complicated for her slowly-moving mind to comprehend at the moment. The idea that she would have to spend an extended period of time with her old friend, which once would have filled her with delight, was now simply was another dull ache in her heart as she wondered how exactly their now, complicated relationship was going to handle that. She still hadn’t reached a conclusion of her own.

Having received no comment from Revali, Zelda turned back to face the rest of the champions. “Aside from that, there is really nothing more for me to say; except to thank you for your contributions to this trip, to wish you a pleasant return journey, and to stress upon you the importance of connecting with your beasts as soon as possible. With the aid of the beasts, it may be possible to drive the Calamity back for another ten thousand years. Otherwise, I fear that… we may not… find the result favourable,” Her voice shook as she said those final few lines, and she bit her lip. “We must make sure that our duty comes first.”

 _Duty._ That word had been cropping up far too often for Mipha’s tastes. She felt a shiver run down her spine at Zelda’s words, which her far too close to Link’s own ones. And Link’s words would haunt her forever. _We must make sure that our duty comes first… our duty for the greater good overrides all else…_

“Don’t worry, princess!” Daruk told her happily, apparently completely unaware of the sudden note of tension in Zelda’s tone. “Rudania’s gonna be a priority for me from down on!”

Zelda smiled sadly in return. Her smile was noticeably more subdued than the one she had given him earlier. “Thank you, Daruk. If that’s all, we may as well get moving. I only have a few things to prepare, so we’ll be leaving relatively soon. If you have anything you need to do, I suggest you do it now. That will be all, champions. Thank you.”

With a final smile, she turned her back on the rest of the champions and hurried off to one of the stalls set up around the Bazaar. The rest of the champions, after some hesitation, began to follow her lead, dispersing and wandering off in their own separate directions. Daruk bounded off towards the stalls as well, possibly looking for any rocks that he could sample. Revali, after pausing to scoff at Daruk’s behaviour, stalked away with his head in the air. Urbosa began to wander off towards the hotel, her brow creased in thought, and Link, after a hesitant glance at Urbosa, turned away and simply watched impassively as Zelda struck up a conversation with one of the stallholders. Leaving Mipha, standing where she had been before the champions had dispersed, and suddenly locked in a fierce mental battle.

 _If you have anything you need to do, I suggest you do it now._ That had been Zelda’s words, and they had re-sparked an old conflict in Mipha’s mind; one which she had imagined put to rest by the extraordinary events that succeeded it. Last night, she had promised herself something – but then Link had arrived, and any thoughts of that had seemed insignificant in comparison. It had seemed at the time that Link’s confession had answered all her questions. But now, as she thought more closely about the events of the past few days, a sneaking suspicion began to form in the back of her mind. A suspicion that claimed that there was one more question yet to be answered. She racked her mind, trying to put her finger what exactly was bothering her.

And suddenly, it hit her. The soft hissing sound of a door…

She sprang into action, her legs taking her towards the hotel which she had stayed at only two nights ago; where she had once laid in bed, cursing herself for being so lax with her words and hoping desperately that Link hadn’t understood them. She saw, out of the corner of her eye, Link turn from impassively observing Zelda to watch her rush pass him, a small frown on his face, but had no time for him now. He would most likely dismiss her from his mind as soon as he could, anyway. Just outside the entrance of the hotel, the tall form of the Gerudo chief was just reaching out a hand to grasp the doorknob.

“Lady Urbosa!”

Urbosa turned, just in time to see Mipha to draw herself up next to her, skidding slightly in the loose sand. The Gerudo tilted her head in an inquisitive manner as Mipha caught her breath, looked up and asked in a tone that was both polite and yet conveyed that the impression that this was, in fact, a question with only one correct answer, “Lady Urbosa, may I have a brief word with you, please?”

Urbosa gave a small sigh and dropped her gaze. “I can’t say I haven’t been expecting this.” she murmured, her voice sounding resigned, but allowed herself to be led around the back of the hotel all the same. The sun was shining against the front of the hotel, so the back was cool, shady, and, most importantly for Mipha’s purposes, a position from which they were unlikely to be overheard. Once they were fully obscured from view, Mipha stopped, wheeled around to face Urbosa, and stared her directly in the eye. She didn’t bother opening with small talk.

“Urbosa, you’ve been collaborating with Link behind my back for the past few days, haven’t you?”

Urbosa raised a lone eyebrow. “That’s a very serious accusation, princess. What on Hyrule makes you say that?”

“Well, first of all I must remind you of your cryptic comment just before we left for Naboris,” Mipha said evenly, her gaze never wavering from Urbosa’s own, looking out for anything that it might give away. “It was certainly the comment of one who knew a lot more than what they were letting on - who had information from a hidden source that I knew nothing of. Secondly, Link came to you and asked for a private conversation just before confronting me. It seemed to make no sense at the time, but if you and he had been collaborating, it suggests that he may have come to you for advice on how to proceed.”

A smile had begun to form around Urbosa’s mouth as she listened to Mipha talk.

“Thirdly, you have displayed quite the acute interest in our relationship ever since the onset of this journey. You claimed that you had begun to ‘root for us’. Knowing this, collaborating with him seems like just the sort of thing that you would do, to push your own agenda. And lastly,” she finished, letting her gaze harden, “Link went through a locked door to get to me. The only one who could have opened it is you. I therefore conclude that you and Link have had some sort of private agreement which you have kept secret from me. Tell me of it now.”

Urbosa gave another sigh, though there was both humour and respect in her eye as she shook her head in mock defeat. “Well, I have to give you kudos for being observant. Credit when credit is due and all that. Very well, your royal highness; would you like a written confession, or will a verbal one suffice?”

Mipha shook her head as well. “I do not need, a confession, Lady Urbosa. I just need to know what this agreement was, and what you said to him last night. And, please, do not address me as ‘your royal highness’. I believe I have already claimed how much I dislike that title.”

Urbosa gave a short snicker. “Then please don’t call me ‘Lady Urbosa’,” The smile faded from her face and her expression took on a more serious tone. “You are right, of course. I have been something of a… a romantic advisor to Link for quite a while now.”

“And what does being a ‘romantic advisor’ consist of?” Mipha asked. Urbosa hesitated briefly, before sighing.

“Look, Mipha, as I’m sure you now know, Link is head over heels in love with you. He just needed someone older and wiser to tell him what to do. And I simply fulfilled that role for him. As I’ve already said, I did find myself hoping that this whole ‘love’ thing works out for you,” She smiled briefly at Mipha. “Really, that’s all there was to it.”

Mipha, however, wasn’t to be put off by Urbosa’s attempts at prematurely ending the conversation. She was determined to get some answers before that happened. “Tell me about how it started.”

Urbosa grinned ruefully. “Should have known that you wouldn’t be put off that easily. Oh, well. Can’t blame a girl for trying,” Her gaze became slightly unfocused as she delved into the past. “It was the morning after our second night, when you and Link had your little chat in those trees. Well, you might have thought that _you_ woke up early, but it was nothing compared to him. He got up before the sun had even risen, came out and found me by the campfire. To me, it was pretty obvious that he had a problem. At first, he didn’t want to tell me, or even, well, speak at all. But I haven’t been called ‘persistent’ for nothing, and, with some prompting, I eventually got him to confess.”

“He told me that he loved you. He told me that he feared that you, in turn, loved him. He told me that he believed that you two couldn’t be together. Kept talking about duty, and how that you were kept apart by fate – or well, something along those lines. He told me that he was scared of what you might feel, that he didn’t know what to do, and that he needed help,” Her expression suddenly became grave. “In all honesty, it was rather humbling. I never believed that someone who looked the part of the prefect hero could, in reality, have so many quiet fears and worries.”

She glanced down at Mipha. The Zora was still watching her with an unwavering gaze, but the first signs of silvery tears were springing up in her eyes as she listened to Urbosa’s testimony. It had been her reaction as well; shock that Link had been carrying around so many worries - not only worries but worries about _her_ \- for so long, when it appeared to the outside world that he was the spitting image of a perfect hero.

“I tried to tell him of your feelings,” Urbosa continued reminiscently. “He was so worried that you reciprocated, and I just couldn’t let him wander off hoping for something that wasn’t true -“ Mipha cringed; Urbosa’s phrase had hit far too close to home for her liking, “-but he didn’t believe me. He thought that I was just trying to force a confrontation; that I was lying for my own benefit. Unfortunate, but, in all honesty, probably justified. So, I advised him to try and find out himself, if he didn’t believe me.”

Mipha nodded. “And he did,” He had spent the next few days attempting to talk with Mipha, to probe her, to try and gauge her feelings. She had spent those nights pushing her own agenda, never suspecting that he had one of his own. With no idea that he had spent those nights for what he believed to be her benefit, as she had his. One of the tears that was pooling itself in her eye rolled down her face. Silently, she wiped it away, never taking her eyes off Urbosa. “And last night?”

“He found out,” Urbosa said with a grin. “The way he put it, you made it quite obvious to him. I’m sure you noticed how agitated he was yesterday; could barely focus on putting one foot in front of the other, really. So, he decided to come to me for advice again.”

Mipha’s expression had gone hard. Half of her wanted desperately to hear the answer to this next question, the other half was repulsed by what might come of it. The first half won. “And what did he want?”

Urbosa’s sly smile froze, then vanished. Her expression fell, and her gaze likewise dropped. There was a long, still silence, during which the Gerudo attempted to find some way around answering the question – something, Mipha noted with detached interest, which Mipha herself had so frequently tried to do in pervious conversations such as these – before she spoke, her voice subdued and quiet. She sounded as if they were discussing the life of a recently deceased friend who was once dear to them all and whose loss was still felt acutely. “He wanted to know how to put you down.”

Mipha’s stomach twisted uncomfortably, and she staggered backwards as if she had been struck. Closing her eyes tight and drawing in a sharp breath, she clenched her sharp, pointed teeth together, the physical pain providing a distraction from the far greater emotional one. Though she had been expecting something exactly like this, to hear it spoken so plainly and bluntly from Urbosa’s mouth sent pain and sadness washing over her like waves breaking against a shore. It only lasted a second, however, before she managed to get herself under control, opening her eyes, unclenching her teeth and slowly letting out her breath. Urbosa was watching her, an expression reminiscent of pity on her face. An expression that showed just how sorry she was for Mipha’s loss.

“What did he do?” she asked quietly.

Mipha gave a smile. It was the most forced smile she had ever given; one which verged on the edge of insanity. “He kissed me.”

Urbosa relaxed, as if a great weight had been taken from her shoulders. Her face split again into a wide smile, delighted smile. “Ah, I knew he could do it! I told him that he could do it another way, that he didn’t have to do this to both of-“

Mipha cut her off with that same fixed, artificial smile still in place, her almost conversational tone clashing horribly with the dark nature of her words. “Then he put me down.”

The laughter suddenly disappeared from Urbosa’s face, to be replaced by one of shock. There was a silence, during which time seemed to elongate itself, stretching out a single moment during which Mipha’s gaze locked with Urbosa’s. Then, as if that moment had suddenly shattered, Mipha’s expression collapsed, she gave out a short sob, and fell heavily down the wall to lie in a crumpled heap on the floor. Urbosa hastily knelt down next to her as, like a dam finally bursting its walls, the tears that had been building up inside of Mipha ever since last night began rushing uncontrollably down her face as her body was racked with sobs. The full reality of the situation had finally hit her, and with it a sense of despair so deep that it felt like drowning in a sea of sorrow – a sense of acute pain that was far sharper than she had ever imagined it to be. With no Link in her life, what was there to live for?

“Mipha, look at me,” Urbosa whispered softly, placing a hand on one of the Zora princess’s red-scaled shoulders. Mipha looked up at her through watery eyes, her face a mask of misery.

“H-he said to forget about it!” she cried, not troubling to keep her voice down like Urbosa – or perhaps she simply wasn’t able too anymore. “He said to forget it, he said to m-move on and that we’d just be putting others in danger by doing it! He… he said that there was no hope!”

Urbosa’s eyes were troubled, but flashed with a fiery determination. She tried again. “Mipha-“

“He says it’s not going to happen!” Mipha’s voice overrode Urbosa’s as it sought desperately to release the overwhelming flood of emotions that had been holed up inside of her since last night. “I… I was so hopeful when he… when he came to me and he k-kissed me, and then he was talking about not being together, and… and he k-knows that there’s no future for us apart, but he-“

“Mipha!” Urbosa shouted, the suddenly harsh tone in her voice interrupting Mipha’s tirade and starling her into silence. Still breathing rapidly with freely flowing tears, the princess turned towards Urbosa, shock on her tear-stained face. Now that Mipha was listening, Urbosa’s voice became softer, more soothing, as she whispered to Mipha.

“Listen, Mipha. He’s given up. He’s decided that there’s no way that it can happen, despite how much it means to both of you. But have you?”

Mipha’s laboured, gasping breaths became softer. She swallowed, trying to moisten her mouth, which was dry from sobbing. “W-what?”

“Have you decided to throw your life away for ‘the greater good?’” she asked. “Has his arguments one-hundred-percent convinced you that it cannot happen? Have you seen no errors in his reasoning, no flaws in his plan? Are you simply going to give up on both of your lives, now that you know how close victory is?”

Something was building up inside of Mipha – something small, but growing steadily larger with every word Urbosa spoke. Something that filled her with warmth; that comforted her, began to lift her from the pit of despair she had fallen into. Something filled with light that lit up the darkness inside her heart. Her breathing became even more regular, and the flow of tears slowed as she stared at Urbosa. “But… but I…”

“He’s managed to convince himself, Mipha,” Urbosa said, giving Mipha a small smile. A kind, warm smile. “But has he convinced you? And do you honestly think that there is no way for you, in turn, to convince him back, to show him that this thing that you two so desperately want is not, as he assumed, outside your grasp, but is, in fact, within reach? You love him, Mipha, and, loving him, you must do what is best for him.”

The glow grew even larger, swelling rapidly, bursting into bloom, and, as it did so, Mipha was suddenly able to identify it. Hope. Hope that bought warmth, and comfort, and light. Hope for a future with Link, and not one without. Hope for a life spent with him, being together, both emotionally and physically. Hope.

“I…” she whispered hoarsely, before her voice trailed off. Her tears were all but gone as she stared up at Urbosa, hardly daring to believe what she was being told.

“Mipha,” Urbosa said softly. “He tried to end it. Did it work?”

 _Had it worked?_ Had Link’s response truly managed to bring her around to his grim outlook on their future? Had it convinced her that there was no way that they could complete each other that did not involve collateral damage to those they were bound by duty to protect? Were there really no flaws, no holes, in his reasoning that she could lay bare to him? Had it convinced her to give up, to doom them both, to _end it?_ Did Mipha really believe as he did; enough to put her love aside and to stand tall against the march of time alone? Or was it not enough? Did she believe that this could work? Did she believe that there was a way so that they could be together? Did she believe that they needed each other – not wanted, but needed – a necessity for true existence?

And then, suddenly, Urbosa’s words came floating back to her. And she knew.

_You love him, Mipha, and, loving him, you must do what is best for him._

She loved him. She had sworn to protect him. And, because of that, she could not let him do this to himself. The conclusion that had been just beginning to form as she had stumbled across the threshold to the Bazaar suddenly took shape in a blaze of wonder, and she finally had an answer to the question that Urbosa had asked her; the question that Link had left behind since last night. And she finally realised what she was to do.

Did it work?

“No,” Mipha looked up at Urbosa, new light shining in her tear-soaked eyes, a smile of pure joy beginning to work itself across her face. “No, it didn’t.”

No. It didn’t work. It hadn’t ended. On the contrary, it had only just begun.

Urbosa smiled back. “I knew it wouldn’t. And I’m glad it didn’t.”

Mipha glanced at her as she stood up shakily. “Shouldn’t you be on his side in all this? He did come to you for advice, after all.”

Urbosa snorted as she too stood. “Of course not. Didn’t I just make that clear? I told him not to do it; told him there was another way, that you two could make it work if you tried. He didn’t listen to me. And so, I gave him best the advice I could under the circumstances, the one I hoped would make it easier on all of you, the one I hoped would allow you to best recover. The one I hoped would leave you with the most hope.”

“And what, may I ask, was that advice?” Mipha asked.

Urbosa gave one final smile. “Don’t think about it. Just do it.”

She then turned around, and, without another word or backwards glance, walked away, rounded the edge of the hotel, and was gone. Mipha kept on staring at the point where she had disappeared, still feeling elated – overjoyed – at her conclusion. Hope. Urbosa had given her hope. Link had tried his best to end it, believing that he was doing what was necessary, but Urbosa had been right. Loving him, she knew what he needed, even if he did not himself. Loving him, she was to protect him, from all physical and emotional harm. Loving him, she needed to show him that he was wrong. She needed to prove to him that they could be together, that it could work out, that nobody should have to sacrifice who they are, and what they need, for the greater good. She needed to give him back the hope she had received. The hope he hadn’t realised he had given her.

Lost in euphoria, it took her several long minutes to snap out of the blissful trance that she had slipped into, and land back in reality. The other champions ought to be waiting for her now; Zelda had said that she wouldn’t be long. The last thing that Mipha wanted was to make them wait too long. And, more importantly (to her, at least), she needed to see Link before she left – even though she could not speak to him, she needed one to look upon him one last time before he was gone. But first, she would need to make herself presentable; it would not do to arrive amongst the champions tear-stained and covered in sand from when she had slid down the wall and onto the desert floor. She wiped down her face with her champion’s sash, brushed off as much of the sand as she could, and adjusted her jewellery, which had been knocked lopsided as she had lain, crumpled on the floor. Tugging on her garments to make sure that they were securely fastened, she hastened around the side of the hotel herself and began walking swiftly towards the markets.

She caught sight of the champions almost immediately – they had, indeed, been waiting for her – and changed direction to angle towards them. Zelda was the first to notice her made her way up to their congregation, and called a greeting.

“Mipha! So good to see you!” she called in a bright, cheerful voice. Mipha returned the greeting with a nod and a smile as she took her place with Revali and Daruk facing Link, Urbosa, and the Hyrulean Princess. It felt good to see Zelda Princess happy again. She could only hope that it lasted.

After making sure that Mipha had gotten into place, Zelda turned her attention back towards the champions as a whole. “Well, champions, I shall see you again soon in the coming months. I hope that, in the meantime, you will make satisfactory progress on your beasts, and this investment of your time will yield results. As I have said, we need to be as prepared as possible if we are to have a chance of preventing the upcoming Calamity.”

Her smile had slipped noticeably as she mentioned preparations for the Calamity, but she managed to hoist it back on her face and continue “I pray for success in your endeavour, and a safe journey back for all of you.”

Urbosa gave a small snort, quiet enough to be unobtrusive but loud enough to be noticeable. “What, you mean with _this_ group? Oh, I can’t see what could possibly go wrong.” Daruk laughed heartily at this, while Revali’s only response was a simple sigh of exasperation. Zelda gave a subdued smile.

“Yes, well… I suppose there is that,” Zelda admitted. “Goodbye, champions, and thank you. May the goddess smile upon you.”

Zelda turned to go amidst reciprocal statements from the rest of the champions, calling out one final farewell as she did so, and her company followed suit. As she moved into position behind Zelda, Urbosa caught Mipha’s eye and threw her a lopsided smile, which the Zora returned warmly. The Gerudo then followed Zelda out into the desert, towards the shimmering image of Gerudo Town, where they would undoubtably spend the night. Link hesitated for a second, before doing the same.

As he did so, Mipha met his gaze, and time seemed to elongate itself to hang in that moment. At first, he tried to ignore it, but, against his will, his gaze slipped towards her own, and held. They stared at each other in for that moment, his blue eyes locked onto her amber ones, and Mipha simply waited. And eventually, his emotionless expression dropped, and he smiled at Mipha – a smile that, while melancholy, was so beautiful to Mipha; proof that, no matter how hard he tried to suppress it, his heart would always be hers. As hers would be his. Then he turned, and, without looked back, walked away with Zelda and Urbosa.

Mipha gazed after his retreating back long after the other champions had dispersed. She stood, alone, looking out into the distance, watching the tiny figure cloaked in blue move slowly towards the hazy image of Gerudo Town. She stared as he got progressively further away, and the haze of heat that lay over the endless desert like a shroud began to cloak him - made him harder and harder to see. She watched as her love – and her lover – finally disappeared over the horizon.

And, in that moment, she vowed that, no matter what, she would find a way for her and Link to be together.

Even if it killed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That last line was meant to kill the mood. To bring you down to earth. To remind you that, no matter how optimistic Mipha may be in that moment, we all know what happens in the end. Did it succeed?
> 
> And now, with that, I thank you for reading my fanfiction. Like Mipha, I, too, have hope – hope that you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it (even if it was a bit of a struggle at times). Hope that I can get back to writing something else soon. Hope that you’ll enjoy reading that, too; if, indeed, it ever appears. But that’s in the future. For now, this particular tale has drawn to a close. Goodbye.
> 
> Postscript - By the way, if you have the time, please consider reading the fanfiction again. Try to join the dots between then and now – all the subtle hints that point towards the confessions of both Link and Urbosa. Take notice of every time that the word ‘duty’ is used. It crops up an awful lot. And try to infer what the novel – the art, the expression of oneself – says about its author. By the way, you should do that whenever you observe art. Doing so is always such an interesting study.


End file.
